Crossing The Inferno
by Kari Kurofai
Summary: A journey through Hell is worth a thousand words, and a hundred years. Sam finds himself trapped in the pit with only one chance of survival, a certain angel he didn't expect to see again. Hopefully they can get along long enough to make it out alive.
1. Chapter 1

**Crossing The Inferno: The Fire And The Fall**

In the end, Sam jumped into the pit with his own two feet, taking the devil trapped inside his body with him. At first it had been only a vague idea that he mentioned in passing to Bobby, trying to decide whether or not it would be even the tiniest bit plausible. After that he'd pushed it aside so he would not dwell nor rely on it to end the war between the Angels and Demons. He never meant it to become their only option, and he thanked whatever higher power that was too uncaring to interfere that at least, above all else, it had worked.

He knew Dean would cry, scream, yell, and try to make countless deals that would never come to fruition. But it had to be done. They had been losing with no hope of pulling a comeback. It was his choice, and he hoped Dean would forgive him for it some day, though he doubted they would ever meet again.

Sam had known exactly what he had to do once Castiel had stepped in to defend Dean from Michael, the archangel in Adam's body. There had never been any chance that the renegade angel could win such a fight, but the hope that had flared in Dean's eyes had been unmistakable. That, coupled with the anguish as Castiel took two steps back after banishing Michael with the Holy Fire, exploding into a thousand pieces. And there had been no flash of light from Castiel's Grace. Just a heart wrenching look of pain that flickered through Dean's eyes as his mind instantly replayed that moment, over and over. Sam could still see the way his brother had turned his gaze away, swiftly, not wanting to see the blood that covered Bobby and the ground all around them. And then Bobby too fell, his neck snapped in two, probably three places in Lucifer's rage.

He had watched in stunned silence as Dean let him punch him, breaking the windshield of the Impala, his nose, cracking his jaw and skull at least a handful of times. And yet Dean had the courage, had the strength, to look the devil right in the eye and tell the brother trapped inside that he would not leave him alone. Not then, not ever.

That was the only trigger Sam needed, like a gentle nudge down the right path. He broke out of the binds Lucifer held him in, deep in his mind, and cast the Horsemen's Rings onto the ground, struggling to say the Latin chant that would unlock the gate. Save Dean. Save Castiel. Save Adam. Save Bobby. Save the world. And so he'd thrown himself into the pit, knowing it was the only way.

And taken Adam, and Michael, with him. He had never meant for Adam to share his fate, but the archangel in his body refused to let go. Adam was his brother, his one and only little brother. He was supposed to protect him, as Dean had done for him for more years than he could remember. He was supposed to make sure he lived. But between all the lives of the world, and his baby brother he'd still hardly gotten the chance to know, there wasn't much of a choice. Sam wished he could say that as he tugged Adam, no Michael, down into the screaming whirlwinds of Hell that his brother had nodded in understanding, in that way he already memorized as that pretending not to care, trying to be brave way that he'd only ever seen Adam and Dean do. But that may have just been his imagination the moment before they'd tumbled backwards into the waiting Gates of Hell.

Unlike Dean, he'd never experienced Hell in his waking memory, though he knew that he'd died once for long enough that he may have, and he'd merely forgotten. But he never imagined it to be as he saw it now. Falling through various levels of fire, ice, wind, and torture. There were souls chained to the walls and ceilings, the chains stretching out of sight so far that he didn't even know if there were ceilings or walls at all. Souls that were almost demons writhed against their binds, twisting and screaming in his ears as he tumbled past them. And all the while he tried to separate himself from Lucifer, who was beginning to seep out of his body like poison from a wound.

It was then that a palm pressed against his chest, pushing against him as another hand blazed down, gripping the black flames that had wreathed themselves around Sam, Lucifer's essence, tugging each tendril of fire off of him one at a time and throwing them away out of Sam's line of sight. The hand against his chest burned in a way Lucifer's fire didn't, cold and white hot in the same instant, comforting and dangerous. As the last of the flames were torn from his breast a flash of brilliant, nearly blinding light covered his vision, warmth and darkness surrounding him. He arched his back slightly as what was unmistakably, feathers, tickled along his spine, and the wind that had previously whirled around him vanishing entirely, a sudden calm amidst the storms of fire outside the enfolding darkness that held him.

And for a moment, he felt safe.

When Sam regained consciousness, the warmth and darkness still remained, though he realized vaguely that the screams of the damned no longer echoed ominously in his ears in the place he now resided. After wiggling his fingers experimentally, testing whether he had regained control over his own body, he sat up, feeling the rocky ground around him and wincing as he touched a bruise between his shoulders where a particularly sharp rock had jabbed him. Unlike his sibling he had fallen into hell with his whole body rather than just his soul, and the fact that he could still bruise and bleed gave him hope that that meant that in some way, he was still very much alive.

His movement caused the darkness around him to shift, and he blinked in surprise as light feathers brushed curiously along his skin, if feathers could be described as curious. He reached out a hand in their general direction through the darkness, touching them gently, wondering if these were the wings of an angel that had protected him from the fires of Hell and torn Lucifer from his body. The thought pained him, thinking that maybe these were Castiel's wings, and that Dean had not only lost his brother, but his guardian as well because of his own hands. It was a likely possibility, though he tried not to think of it, his brother kneeling on the ground far above, broken and alone.

His heart clenched in fear at the thought that it may be Anna, and he shuddered. She'd almost wiped him from existence entirely a few months back, and he'd rather have Lucifer in his body again than for her to have saved him. It disgusted him to think that these could be her wings he was touching. Or even worse, Zachariah. He all but threw up in his mouth as that image popped into his mind.

But an all too familiar voice roused him from his thoughts, banishing them entirely in an instant. "You're awake then? It's rather tedious for me to sit in this position, you know. And that's saying a lot with all the positions I can do, Sammy. I was almost done working my way through the kama sutra when I bit it."

Sam stiffened as the wings left him, drawing up against the back of the man who was sitting only a few feet away, his head resting in his hands and his hazel eyes glittering with undisguised amusement. It should not have surprised him to see this angel again, really. In fact, he owed everything to him, including Lucifer's defeat and going as far as to include his own life twice over. "Gabriel," he said slowly, unable to hide the shock in his tone.

Gabriel tilted his head to the side, studying the younger Winchester with a glazed look, "Don't sound so surprised, Sammy. Or did you forget that I died protecting your lazy ass."

An annoyed growl escaped Sam, and he tensed, "Don't even start with that. One good deed doesn't make up for a thousand wrong ones."

A small laugh bubbled up from the angel, and Sam stared at him, startled that anyone could have the courage to laugh in the depths of hell. "You mean killing Dean over and over inside the illusion? You know as well as I that that was for your own good, Sam."

Another growl, but Sam did not reply, knowing that the words were truth. It was that illusion made by the Trickster, no, Gabriel's hands, that had snapped him out of it just enough that he didn't end up killing himself after his brother died. A feather brushed against his cheek, but he shied away from it, scowling in confusion and frustration. Of all the angels to get stuck with, he'd almost rather it was Anna. "Why?" he asked suddenly, knowing that the other could discern the meaning without a full question.

Gabriel looked thoughtful for a moment before he replied, "Because I'm bored," he said finally, earning a glare from Sam. "And, crazy as it sounds, saving you is something I seem to have already committed to doing." He waved a hand nonchalantly, "That's the thing with you Winchesters, help out one time and you're stuck for life. And unfortunately my life is kinda long."

"But you're dead," Sam pointed out.

"And you're Sam," Gabriel said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "Thank you Caption Obvious. Unfortunately, I'm not exactly dead-dead. You know?" Sam shook his head, and the Trickster sighed, "The DVD, I'm sure you remember it," he grinned. "It was a little too perfect, didn't you notice?" He watched with a smirk as Sam's eyes turned distant, thinking about it. "Angels lose their Grace, Sam, you know that. And for something to be lost, it must have the capacity to be taken away from where it resides, correct? I placed a piece of mine in the Casa Erotica. Just a touch, of course. But enough to tie me to the middle plane."

"Then you can get out?" Sam asked, suddenly feeling his heart race with hope. If Gabriel could find a way out, then why not him as well?

Gabriel laughed openly this time, "Only if I have the right kind of guide." He waited as Sam's face fell before he continued, enjoying the rapid change in emotions on the human's features. "A guide who knows the map of hell."

Sam blinked at the expectant look suddenly directed at him, "Wait . . . You're talking about me?"

"Bingo, Sammy!" Gabriel smiled. "Lucifer was still in your body when you entered, correct? And when I pulled him out, the path should have been burned onto your back. It's like a birthmark the vessels of the devil retain after his departure. It won't look like much to you, but it'll be clear to me."

The hunter made a move as though to take off his shirt, only for his fingers to come in contact with bare skin. "Wh- why the hell am I naked?" he exclaimed, moving to cover himself while his face began to blaze scarlet.

"Because you're in Hell and your clothes burned off," Gabriel deadpanned as though it was unimportant. He snapped his fingers and a pair of jeans suddenly wove themselves around Sam's legs, the brunette sighing with mild relief, though he remained naked from the waist up.

Sam turned to twist his head over his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse at the markings that were surely on his back, but finding that he couldn't quite catch sight of them. As he made a reluctant motion for Gabriel to come take a look, he glanced down at his chest only to find a scar of a different kind. A handprint, branded into his skin across his sternum, the place where the angel had pressed against him as he tugged Lucifer free of his body. "Gabriel," he said, taking note of the mark as his tone turned dangerous.

The angel had crouched behind him in the short span of time it had taken Sam to find the mark, and he looked up from his examination of the other's back with a frown. "Oh, stop whining." He shifted his stance, tracing a slow, careful circle near the middle of the hunter's spine, his frown growing more pronounced as he repeated the movement. Sam winced at the touch, his skin feeling sore and tight almost as though he'd been burned as Gabriel continued to trace out a perfect ring on his skin.

"Gabriel-" he started again, biting his lip as the intensity of the angel's fiery touch increased.

"Hush," the archangel snapped in return, making one last round over his spine before he sat back on his heels and simply stared.

Sam craned his neck over his shoulder again, hearing an audible crick in his joints that made him groan. "What is it?" he asked finally, frustrated that he was unable to see this 'map' or whatever it was on his skin.

Gabriel blinked, looking up as if he'd forgotten Sam was there for a moment. His eyes narrowed and he flicked his wrist towards the rocky ground, causing a small, but clear circle to twist it's way through the dirt and stones. "I can only get part of the map to show," he said, annoyance clear in his tenor.

"That's just a circle," Sam said bluntly, at a loss for once. He was used to finding the meanings behind such symbols, translating them if you will. But this was, in every way he looked at it, just a circle in the dirt.

The archangel merely stared at him as though he was stupid, "Ever heard of Dante?"

Realization burst into Sam's mind, his mouth forming into a silent oh. "You're not suggesting that you're Virgil then, are you?" he joked halfheartedly.

A look of mock horror crossed Gabriel's face, "Good god no. Virgil was an ugly little shit to say the least. I gotta keep my handsome style as it is." His small smile fell, "But you've got the basic idea, don't you? This is Dante's Inferno in reverse, Sammy. And it's not gonna be pretty." The angel motioned towards the ring he'd carved into the stone ground, "Right now it seems that we are just outside of the lake, which would make sense since you were intending to fling Lucifer right back where he came from. We'll have to pass him to get out, and I'm not looking forward to it."

Sam's eyebrows furrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest, "We're outside of the frozen lake? Then why is the ground so warm?"

"It's Hell, Sammy," the Trickster snorted, "I can't explain how the shit around here works." He stood, brushing off his pants in a carefree manner, his clearly visible wings still tucked against his spine. Sam couldn't help but stare at them, his only visual of angel's wings before being the burned outlines where their Grace was stabbed out of them. Unlike the imprints he'd seen, he was mildly surprised to see that Gabriel possessed not one, but two sets of wings, the first extending from his shoulder blades and flaring out behind him a ways, and the second protruding from an inch or two farther down, their feathers brushing against the back of his knees, both pairs a shade of midnight blue-black that changed with the varying light. The archangel looked up as he caught the viridian gaze on him, a smirk crossing his features, "Now now, Sammy. I'm way too out of your league."

Sam scowled in response, pointedly looking at the ground instead. He jumped slightly as he felt a shirt and a thick coat suddenly settle over him, fitting comfortably on his body in the familiar way of garments of the perfect size, a pair of thick boots following suit. Blinking, he glanced at Gabriel again, but the angel merely shrugged and turned his back, motioning for Sam to follow. "It's gonna be cold," he said nonchalantly, as though that explained the action.

The hunter followed the angel warily over the stony ground until they reached an outcropping of rocks that stairwayed up past his line of sight. He narrowed his eyes, glancing the way they had come in confusion, "If they're the rings of hell, shouldn't we be able to go the other way too?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes and flicked his gaze over to him for a moment, "Multiple entrances, Sammy. But only one open exit. I'm sure you remember it."

The younger Winchester's shoulders hunched at the words, recalling the gate hidden inside a graveyard in Wyoming, "Yeah," he confirmed slowly, biting his lip.

"Well, lucky for us that it's still standing, or we'd be stuck here forever. And as one of Azazeal's chosen, it might just be that you can break it open again."

Sam stiffened, "But it's been years since I've been able to do anything like that! I mean . . . Without . . ."

"Without being hyped up on demon mojo, I get it," Gabriel said as though it was hardly one of Sam's darkest moments in life. "And I'm not saying you have to be. We'll come to that fork in the road when we get here." His right wings twitched, flicking towards the rocky outcropping ahead, "Let's just take everything one step at a time, all right? Starting with getting over this shit so we can at least see the damn lake."

The other nodded mutely, subdued into silence by Gabriel's out of place carefree attitude. He supposed that he couldn't expect anything less when it came to the archangel that had formerly posed as a pagan god, but it still seemed strange to him, almost forced. But then again, he'd never been very good a divining Dean's hidden emotions, and as Gabriel had said, both he and Sam's brother were masters of hiding their feelings.

The precipices of rock stretched up overhead as they began their assent. At first, the large stones were haphazardly shoved together, making their climb difficult, but manageable. They could not have been more of a third of the way up when the rocks began to appear jumbled, large jagged gaps left between mountainous boulders and flat slabs. It was only after the hole that was wider than Sam's entire, extremely tall body that he began to worry. "Does this get worse farther up?" he asked breathlessly, standing on the tippy edge of the void and staring down into the darkness below.

"Undoubtedly," Gabriel muttered, gazing straight ahead. Thus far the gaps in their path had proved to be little trouble to him, though he had yet to beat his wings. And Sam had no doubt that this one would be the same.

"Can't you just . . ." He made a motion with his hands out towards the other side of the darkness just beyond his feet.

"Fly you," Gabriel deadpanned, a look in his eyes that dared Sam to respond. "Nice try, but no. Flying requires angelic energy that will leave a clear signal in the air for days just for demons to find, thank you very much."

Sam chewed on his lip for a moment before taking a two strides back on the rock he was currently standing on, charging towards the gap in the next instant in a running leap. His feet hit the stone opposite hard, just barely gripping the edge of it, his heels hanging over into the darkness behind him before he tripped forward, nearly face planting onto the it's surface. He rubbed his now bleeding and probably fractured nose as he glared at the angel, who took only a small hop and a jump to cross that same gap, landing with utmost grace at the hunter's side, a smirk in the corners of his mouth.

"Jerk," Sam growled, pressing his sleeve to his nose to stifle the flow. Gabriel snapped his fingers and Sam felt as though a plug had been shoved up his nostrils, and he sneezed hard, only to note that his nose had ceased bleeding. He frowned, continuing to glare at the other before he muttered a quick, "Thank you." Acknowledging his gratefulness for the angel's presence was the last thing he wanted to consent to, but that happened to be a better option than a never-ending nosebleed.

Gabriel shrugged in reply, taking the lead towards up the towering cliffs. It took a few more hours for the gaps to lengthen much more than the one they'd previously crossed, and it was only after Sam had barely caught onto the edge of one of the rocks with his hand, his body dangling dangerously down into the void below, that Gabriel spoke again. He reached down into the abyss, catching Sam's wrist just before he lost his grip, hauling him up with a grunt of exertion. "Jesus, how much do you weigh?"

Sam reached up his other hand, tangling his fingers around the angel's lower arm as he struggled to gain purchase on the ledge again. Gabriel gritted his teeth and gave one more breathless grunt before heaving him up to safety, the other's weight causing him to topple over backwards into the stone behind him. Sam kneeled on the secure flat rock, chest rising and falling as he gulped down thankful breaths of air.

"Let's stop for the night," Gabriel panted, for the first time a small spark of exhaustion flickering through his eyes.

The other raised an eyebrow, "Night?"

"Night, day, it's all the same here," Gabriel shrugged, leaning back against the boulder behind him and closing his eyes. He patted a hand against the bare stone beside him, "Move over here," he commanded.

Sam frowned at the sudden bossy tone the angel had taken up, but he complied, shifting over to sit beside him, letting his back rest against the same rock. "How long have we been down here?" he asked softly, remembering the difference in time between Hell and Earth as Dean had described it.

Gabriel cast him a sidelong glance, "You? A day or so, which means less than an hour up top. Me? A little over ten years Hell time."

"Isn't it difficult being here?" Sam closed his mouth almost as soon as the question slipped out, realizing that it was ridiculous to ask such a thing.

"You'll find out before we're done," Gabriel whispered in a tone that made Sam shudder. He turned his eyes away once more, staring out over the way they had come with a weary, time worn gaze. "Get some sleep, Sammy," he murmured.

Sam slouched down against the boulder, letting his hands fall to his lap, "What about you?" he asked.

The Trickster smiled slightly, tilting his head to the side, "Don't worry about it. When have you ever seen Castiel sleep, hmm?" Gabriel blinked as Sam gave him a look that clearly said he had, before he shifted and unfolded his wings, veiling the hunter the protective darkness that he'd woken in. "Just sleep. No one can find us this close to the inner circle. I'll keep watch," he promised gently. The hunter tensed briefly as the feathers encircled him, but relaxed once more as he heard the lulling sound of what was unmistakably a horn. Soft and barely audible, it's quite mournful tune carried him into quick but peaceful unconsciousness as he slipped into dreamless sleep.

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

I'm getting the feeling that this will be the story I'll be doing the most research for since Little Drop Of Healing. Gabriel's always been a character in Supernatural that has intrigued me, even when he was still known solely as the Trickster. And the fact that he turned out to be the archangel only made my curiosity peak, which was why I was so angsty after his demise. (Though I don't really think he's dead. But let's just say for fic purposes that he is.)

I waited to post this till Swan Song cause I wanted to get it right, instead of blind guessing. But I have to say that even though my lovely Cass is alive . . . I HATE IT! He left! He left! And Sammy's still . . . Arrrrggghhhh . . . They were supposed to end the Lucifer shit! And keep Cass! *pouts* well, I can hear from Misha tomorrow (It's Swan Song night as I write this) on his contract-go-no-go for season 6. I'm still pining for go. If we're continuing with this crap we need Destiel lovin. And we'd need it even w/o Lucifer. = 3= at least guest appearances 5-10 times in season 6 please SERA! Cause we can no longer pray to the god of Kripke. Or Chuck. Damn you Chuck. I hate you now, though I loved you before. You made Cass go away. Get bitchy Raphael to fix Heaven, damn it. Cass should stay HUMAN! Chuck you Meany!

Kay . . . Anywho . . . Ranting done now . . .

So this story will be very mythological, as fan fictions go, with both Gabriel's life and such and the rings of Hell. But I'll try and explain as I go, kay?


	2. Chapter 2

**Crossing The Inferno: Rely on Me**

Sam shifted out of his dreamless unconsciousness with a heavy intake of breath, for the briefest of moments forgetting where he was. The last thing he could remember was jumping into the pit with Lucifer still inside him, Adam at his side. As his memories flooded back to their rightful place in his mind, he reached out a hand to brush his fingers against the feathers that encased him in a warm darkness, reassuring himself of reality.

Gabriel's wings shifted, allowing a thin vein of Hell's dim light to fall over him, revealing the archangel sitting with his legs pulled up against his chest, his arms folded over his knees and his head resting on them. His hazel eyes were barely cracked, giving Sam the brief illusion that the angel might be sleeping, only to have Gabriel banish the idea with the twitch of his fingers, curling them against his palm. Sam inched towards the gap the other had created between his wings, widening it with his hand, "I though you said you didn't need sleep," he teased.

"I don't," Gabriel said slowly, his eyes remaining in their barely open position. "I _can't_ sleep. But I can rest. I can close my eyes and make my mind go blank. Though I am incapable of dreaming and I my senses remain on alert." He opened his wings further, watching wordlessly as Sam didn't move from their safety.

A silence settled between them, and Gabriel turned his gaze away, out over the landscape they'd come from. From their position a little more than halfway up the towering piles of stone, he could make out the border of the eighth ring in the distance, a dark smudge on the horizon where the ground shot straight up like the walls of a canyon. Though unfortunately that was not the side they needed to cross. "You hungry?" he asked suddenly, remembering that humans needed things like food and water to survive, and since Sam had fallen into Hell with his entire body, there was no doubt that he too would require sustenance.

Sam nodded, licking his chapped lips at the thought. Being where he was, food hadn't been the first concern to enter his mind. His life as a hunter had left him with the instinct that that was never the worst of his problems. But considering how long he'd been in Hell already, he was lucky he hadn't died of dehydration yet. "That'd be great," he said.

The angel returned the nod, snapping his fingers twice, causing a large glass of cold water and a plate of sandwiches to appear out of thin air. Greedily, Sam wolfed it down, not having realized how starving he'd been until the food was laid before him. He could feel Gabriel's eyes on him, but he didn't say anything until he'd chugged down the last drop of water. "How long was I asleep?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He had yet to distinguish the difference between night and day in this place, but it seemed that the angel had no problem with it.

Gabriel opened his eyes fully, scanning their surroundings for a moment before he murmured, "About a day. Maybe a day and a half." His wings drew away from Sam as the hunter finished off his meal, thinking briefly about telling him that both sandwiches and water had been made from the matter of the rocks farther down the slope. Even in his guise as a Trickster, things like food had never been an illusion. Items that were inevitably consumed must be made out of something in reality. The stones down here were just as real as those on Earth, and he could shape and change their makeup to his heart's content. But he was sure Sam wouldn't appreciate knowing he'd just snarfed down what had previously been a rock, though the look on his face would make for a priceless picture.

Out of all the humans he'd ever met, Sam Winchester was the one that had intrigued Gabriel the most. And he'd met more than a few. He'd been residing on earth for quite near a thousand years now, since he'd been banished from Heaven for giving Mohammed a misspoken message. That was when he had first begun to hate his father, and his siblings in kind. Everyone made mistakes, Michael overlooking Lucifer's jealousy of humanity, Raphael failing to keep a close eye on the rest of the Watchers, or Uriel choosing to stand at Lucifer's side rather than that of Heaven. And yet of all of the five archangels, Gabriel alone had been punished for his slip, and he hated his brothers for it. For hundreds of years he had been unable to return Home, and then when they finally allowed him passage once more, he refused it, feeling betrayed by his fellows and his Holy Father. In the time he'd spent unwillingly on Earth, he'd come to find the place a lot more interesting than the unchanging, single seasoned Heaven, a lot more fun. And he enjoyed the company of those who were mortal, they were quite amusing to him. Though he hated to admit that in his immeasurable long life, there were a handful that he had allowed to get a little to close.

He had not forgotten the first time he'd cried, standing over the burned and crumbling stake upon which Joan of Arc had been executed. That had been the last time he'd used his horn until just a few hours before when he'd sent Sam into a dreamless sleep. The kid should feel lucky in his opinion, having the privilege of being the first to hear his horn in almost six hundred years. The angel sighed audibly, raising his head from his arms and resting his elbows on his knees instead, opening his eyes fully to warily glance around the area once more. One could never be too careful here, in Hell, letting your guard down meant losing your life. And in the ten years he'd already spent here, he'd had more than a few close calls.

"Ready to go?" he asked after a moment or so, though he made no movement to stand. Really, he just wanted to sit in this glorious silence for eternity, without thought, without purpose, without meaning. But that would be the coward's choice, and Gabriel, though never one to jump to his feet and fight, was not a coward. That was one thing he'd proved to the Winchesters before he'd died, and for that he was glad.

Sam too, seemed reluctant to move from the spot, and he only twitched as Gabriel withdrew his wings and curled them against his back once more. "Yeah, let's keep going," he said with a yawn, pushing himself to his feet.

Gabriel rose, blinking the half-sleep fog from his eyes as he peered up at the rocks that still stretched quite a ways yet up ahead. He took the lead as they began to continue their assent, trying to spot the easiest path with his farseeing gaze so that they would not have a repeat of the day before when Sam had nearly fallen into one of the cracks between stones. But the quickly widening gaps became more and more numerous as they carried on, until the looming void ahead was much too far for even someone as tall as Sam to jump with any hope of survival. The hunter in question shifted nervously on his toes, staring out at the ledge that was just out of reach and just a little too high. "Uhm . . ." He began, letting his eyes fall to the darkness falling endlessly between the two places.

"I'll go first," Gabriel said, taking a few steps back. Unlike their previous ventures with such obstacles, he couldn't simply hop across. Instead, he took a running leap, flaring his wings just slightly but not daring to flap them, knowing that any lift he gained from such a movement would create a burst of energy demons would be able to detect for miles around. That had been the fate of the foolish Uriel over a hundred years ago in this plane's time, he'd learned so from a demon he'd come across when he'd taken his first steps on the soil of Hell. Changing rocks and dirt into food and clothes for Sam used a more common, unnoticeable power, almost so undetectable that he didn't worry whether it would be sensed at all. But flight was a purely angel characteristic, and as such, it was the last to disappear before an angel fell entirely. As it had been with Castiel.

His feet touched the rock on the other side without a sound, and he spun on his toes, reaching out both hands across the void to the hunter. "All right, now jump," he ordered.

Sam stared at him, "Are you insane? Even if I jump there's no way I'll even reach your hands!"

Gabriel rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth in frustration. _Stubborn boy._ "Just trust me!" he hissed, wiggling his fingers over the gap.

"Why should I!" Sam snapped back, anger clear in his green eyes. And Gabriel knew he was right, Sam hardly had any reason to trust him. But at the moment, it was his only option.

"Because I'm all you've got to rely on right now!" he growled, stretching forward as far as he could, "Now jump you pussy or I'll come back over there and push you!"

Sam scowled at the insult, taking a few steps back, and then a few more until he stood at the far edge of the rock he was perched on, and for half a heartbeat, Gabriel thought he was going to turn right around and leave. But instead, Sam hunched his shoulders and ran forward with blazing eyes, his feet leaving solid stone as he hurtled across the gap. The angel lunged as the other's leap began to falter and arc downwards just over halfway across, a terrible sinking feeling plummeting through him as the hunter began to fall just past where his hands were extended to. No longer thinking about the danger of using his wings, he dived after him, grabbing his outstretched hand just as Sam let out a yell of loss, thinking that the end had come for the briefest of seconds.

Gabriel flared his dark wings up and out, pumping them madly to regain the air between himself and the ledge that was now over ten feet above them. Sam's hands closed over his wrist, his grip vice like in his panic. He reached down his free hand, reaffirming his hold on the other as the tips of his wings brushed the stone once more and he scrambled up onto it's secure ground, hauling the hunter up behind him. His hands let go of Sam's and he sat down heavily on the rock, letting his body slump over until he was splayed out over the stone.

One of Sam's hands found his leg, and he looked up to see the human on his hands and knees, his head low to the ground and his face deathly pale as he fought to regain his breath. "L-let's not try that again," the younger Winchester wheezed after a moment, his eyes finding Gabriel's.

"Agreed," the archangel said reluctantly. "Though that one may have just cost us." His eyes scanned the rocky outcropping stretching out below them, his body tensing with the slightest bit of fear. And one by one, twisting, broken, mangled figures began crawling out from the crevices, quickly gliding over the stones as though they were hardly an obstacle at all. "Run," he whispered, his voice cracking as he surged to his feet. "Run, Sam!"

Sam scrambled up onto the next jutting stone above, his already raw and bruised hands scraping against it's uneven surface and spilling his blood down to the rocks below. Gabriel, no longer worried about using his wings, leapt into the air and settled on the precipice Sam had managed to reach, his hands finding the hunter's back and pushing him forward. "Go! Go!" He glanced back at the slowly forming horde as they raced up to their position on the outside of the lake's crater, his fingers tangling into the fabric of Sam's jacket. "Shit," he hissed.

"That's what a demon's true form looks like?" Sam called down to him as the archangel hefted him up onto another overhang from below, shock clear in his voice. Which was saying something compared to all the other horrors he'd witnessed in his lifetime.

Gabriel flew up onto the ledge beside him, grabbing him by the arm, "Yes. And you know what, they're a lot more powerful down here. Hang on." Sam's breath caught in his throat as the archangel suddenly burst up into the air, the hunter in tow. The first of the demons had reached the rock they had been standing on not a moment before, and it swiped at the suddenly empty air with a furious hiss.

The angel grabbed Sam's other arm, beating his wings furiously as he tried to ascend the mountain of boulders and sharp stones. But no matter how hard he pushed himself, he just couldn't seem to gain any ground, as if the creatures of hell were bearing down on him through the air rather than from the rocks below. He let out a frustrated snarl and pumped his wings madly as they reached the next gap between rocks, the demons closing in with every second. A gust of icy air hit the tips of his feathers from the crevice below, and Sam flinched and gripped the hands holding him just feet away from death. "Gabriel! Drop me! We'll never make it!"

"And lose my ticket out of here? Forget it!" Gabriel snapped in reply, howling with pain as one of the demons leapt at him, biting onto the bone of his lower right wing.

"There's air coming from down there!" Sam protested, "It must lead to the lake! Just let go and we can make it!"

Gabriel flicked his wing, throwing the creature aside just as another latched on to the opposite lower wing, digging it's rotting teeth into the feathers. Shaking the thing off, he gritted his teeth and allowed his hold on the younger Winchester to loosen and then retract entirely, rushing at the demons on the rocks and making them stumble back in fright before he clipped his wings in against his sides and dove down after the hunter.

The archangel stretched his arms out in front of them as far as he could as he hurtled down the darkness after the human. The faint light of the world above faded after a few moments, and the sound of the wind rushing past him as he fell was the only sound that greeted his ears. "Shit," he cursed, feeling stones on either side of him brush the tips of his wings, the space in between growing smaller and smaller. "Sam!" he called out, groping blindly in the darkness for the other. It wouldn't do for him to die like this.

A hand brushed briefly against his, and the angel started, surging forward and grasping onto the arms that reached up for him just as the hunter's voice reached his ear through the roaring icy wind of their fall. "We're never gonna make it at this speed!"

Gabriel yelled as a rock hit his side, hard, and he tugged the human up against him, folding his dark wings around him, "Yes you are," he hissed, tucking his head down against the top of Sam's as his shoulder slammed down against another jutting stone in their fall.

Sam struggled in the angel's unmoving grip on him as Gabriel cried out in obvious pain, but the arms around his shoulders and the wings keeping him locked against the other's body made it next to impossible. "Stop! Let me go!" he all but screamed, feeling a bone shaking jolt as Gabriel's back made contact with another boulder in the darkness. Without any light to guide them, they were simply hurtling towards death at this rate. At least, Gabriel was. "Stop!"

A sudden burst of light nearly blinded him as they tumbled out of the crevice and out into the faded light of hell once more. The ground couldn't have been too far below, but the audible crash and skid was enough to make Sam dizzy, wings and limbs untangling from around him as Gabriel slid across the ice and frost on his side.

The hunter groaned and lay where he'd fallen for a long moment before he pushed himself to his feet, making his way to where the angel lay eerily still. Blood was streaked across the rocks and ice to the spot Gabriel lay, his dark feathered wings a tangled mess around him and a thin trail of crimson trickling down his face and over closed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. Sam swallowed, glancing between the odd angle of the angel's wings and the blood before he hesitantly reached out a hand to Gabriel's shoulder. The angel drew in a sharp hissing breath of pain between his teeth, but his eyes did not open as he flinched away from the hunter's touch. The other drew his hand away, glancing around at their new surroundings as his mind worked on what to do.

What seemed to be an endless sea of ice stretched out before them, it's surface covered with a light dusting of snow. Behind them lay the other steep incline of the rocks and stones they'd climbed, much too sharp to scale. A sparse few, leafless and brittle trees dotted the small area between rock and ice, their limbs frosted over. Biting the inside of his cheek, Sam decided that that was the best place to start.

His fingers quickly grew numb with cold as he snapped off the lower branches of a few of the trees, creating a significant pile of wood before he hauled it back over to where Gabriel lay, motionless save for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Sam kept expecting the wounds on the angel to heal when he wasn't looking, but it never happened. He supposed it was because that this form of Gabriel was the bare essentials of his being, the last of his Grace tied to his soul. And apparently, in Hell, souls could bleed. He didn't want to think about whether or not souls could die here as well.

The branches were wet with the snow and frost that had covered them, and Sam growled in frustration as he found himself unable to form a spark. Rubbing his hands together and breathing between them to try and get some feeling back in his fingers, he shuffled back over to where Gabriel lay awkwardly on his side. The layer of frost on the ice's surface had melted away around him so that he lay directly on it, his shoulders hunched with cold. Sam crouched beside him, at a complete loss for what to do. He only knew about taking care of _people's_ injuries, not angel's. With a flare of determination, he slipped his arms under Gabriel's back, ignoring the groan of pained protest as he moved the angel from the ice to the small patch of ground at the base of the stones. It wasn't much warmer, but it was an improvement.

He took his coat off and examined the material with a frown before he pulled his t-shirt over his head and put the coat back on. The shirt was much thinner, and he had no trouble ripping it into long thin strips of cloth, one of which he used to try and dry the branches off a bit more. Taking the rest in hand, he moved around to kneel behind the angel who still lay on his side, peering at his tangled wings for a long moment before he reached out to touch them. Unsurprisingly, Gabriel flinched away from him, but Sam caught hold of the joint on the closest wing and began straightening it out, running his fingers through the dark blue-black feathers until they lay flat once more. Rolling the angel over onto his back, he repeated the action with each of the four wings until he could clearly find the break he'd been expecting. The angel's upper left wing was twisted at an oddly noticeable angle, and Sam placed his hands on either side of it, taking a deep breath and steadying his heart rate before he let the breath out and whipped his wrists around, snapping the bone back into place with one swift movement.

Gabriel gasped and cried out, his back arching though he still didn't open his eyes. Sam tried not to let that concern him as he took some of the more stubbornly wet branches and tied them to the broken wing with the shreds of his shirt, making sure they were secure and tight before he moved on to the inspecting the rest of the angel's wounds. There was a deep gash on one of his shoulders, and a large bruise on his back that suggested a fractured vertebra. After binding the other's shoulder, Sam used the rest of the strips to wrap around his head, where blood oozed out from under his hair line, but he couldn't find the injury.

It took him what must have been over an hour to get a fire started, and more than once he threw the wood at the stones in irritation before he saw the first spark of flame. Relief washed over him as he managed to get the spark to leap into life, licking up around the wood he'd gathered. He pulled down more branches from the nearby dead trees and lay them out to dry next to the fire before he settled down in front of it himself.

Beside him, Gabriel had shifted between unconsciousness and the half-sleep he'd explained before, rolling over onto his side once more with his wings stretched out awkwardly behind him. Sam shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, his stomach clenching in hunger though he remained silent. There wouldn't be any food in the place, and he was lucky enough that he'd been able to start a fire. His only source of food and water was Gabriel, and as long as the angel remained out cold, there really wasn't anything he could do.

Licking his chapped lips, the Hunter contemplated melting some of the ice into water. But he wouldn't put it past the Devil for the lake to be poisoned. It wasn't worth the risk. Rubbing his palms across his shoulders, he hunched over in front of the flames, wondering if it was safe to sleep. There didn't seem to be any demons on this side of the crater, perhaps they were to frightened of their creator to venture onto the surface of the frozen lake. For that he was grateful.

A cold wind whipped up over the ice, and Sam shuddered again, closing his eyes against the frigid gust. For the first time, he let himself think about what had happened that had caused him to be here in the first place. He hoped Dean was all right, that he'd at least left the cemetery by now instead of sitting there in shock for hours as he himself had done after his older brother had been torn apart by the hellhounds. He wished that Lucifer hadn't blasted Castiel into pieces so there would be someone for Dean to lean on, to look to in his grief. He wanted Bobby to pick Dean up and take him home and tell him to stop being an _"idjit."_ But he'd killed both Castiel and Bobby with his own hands.

And looking out over the ice again, he thought about Adam. Had he been able to shake Michael off as they fell into Hell? Or was he still trapped inside his own body, with the angel wandering around somewhere not to far away using him as his vessel. It made Sam shudder to think of what it would be like if he too was still just a pickle jar for Lucifer down here. He hoped Adam had somehow gotten away.

Letting his eyes fall on the wounded angel again he felt a spark of panic flash through him. If Gabriel died here, he'd have no way to get out. He couldn't read the map on his back, let alone see it, and the angel was the only source of food and clean water he had. If Gabriel died . . .

"We're going to get out of here," he whispered, almost to himself. He reached for the other's hand, curled up tight against his chest, and took it in his own, squeezing it tightly. "We're going to get out." Another icy gust of wind billowed up over the lake and he ducked his head down onto his knees, staring into the fire with a visible shiver. He'd never had to rely on anyone but Dean before, and when he had it had never turned out well. Specifically when he had put his faith in Ruby. But Gabriel had proven who's side he was on, right?

Sam only hoped that he wasn't making another fatal mistake placing his trust with the angel. But then again, how much more could he die? He was already in Hell.

**RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE**

*dances* Misha is cooonnnfiiiirrmmmedd . . . Misha is cooonnnfiiiirrmmmedd . . .

Anywho . . . Yeah, ecstatic with the first release of season 6 details, but that's just me. But Misha . . . . Ah, he's such a meany, making us totally think he wasn't coming back. ;_; Gawd, I can't wait to see his reappearance. I can picture it now . . . "Hello, Dean." lol lol.

But anywho, about this chapter now. Making Gabriel get hurt this cahpy was never my original plan, but I listened to Breaking Benjamin's "I Will Not Bow," through the whole chapter, which I claim as Gabriel's theme song, so the line, "All is lost again, but I'm not giving in," inspired the scene where they fell down the tunnel thing from Gabriel's POV. Next chapter we'll see more of Gabriel's powers + mistrusting Sam + first appearance of . . . Dun dun duuuunnn . . . A very special person you'll never expect. Mwahahahahaha. Here's a hint. Fans hated her, I loved her. Guess it and win an epic prize of . . . Something. Idk what, a request maybe? :3

Also, had to write my final AP English paper for my High School career EVER and I did it about Supernatural. If anyone wants to see a copy (It's like a 45 page fan fiction. Wincest and Destiel mostly. A bit of Adam luvin too.) I can email it to you. Just letting you all know cause I can't post it, it has pictures and such.


	3. Chapter 3

**Crossing The Inferno: The Imprint of Life**

_Angels are incapable of dreaming just as they are of sleeping. Instead they remembered and, in rare cases, hallucinated. But that's the definition of a dream, isn't it. So it was that Gabriel's half-conscious state shifted in and out of memories he didn't care to recall, twisting and rearranging them until they were monstrous recreations of events long past. _

_He remembered the day Joan of Arc had died, tied to the stake she was to be burned on. Her eyes had desperately searched for him in the crowd of jeering Englishmen, her gaze pleading for sanctuary when he could do nothing to interfere. He had not let her glimpse him amidst the thickly packed mob, and had stood in utter silence as she burned alive. God had forbidden him from interfering in the affairs of mortals beyond what had been instructed of him, and after his mistakes with Mohammed, he dared not. But watching Joan slowly become consumed by the flames of England's unrelenting ambition and greed, he couldn't take it anymore. Her imploring, yet somehow still effortlessly fearless eyes burned into is mind as the flames licked up along her body, eating away at her flesh and filling the air with the sickly scent of death. He couldn't stand by without lifting a finger. _

_Instead, he lifted his whole hand, twisting his wrist and curling his fingers into his palm, the movements a pantomime of the energy he skillfully wielded. He heard a rough, startled gasp from the crowd, those closest to the pyre jumping back in surprise at what they saw before them. A white dove had risen from the chest of the persecuted as she breathed her final breaths, it's wings unfurling as it leapt from the flames and up into the sky. Gabriel watched it fly up and up until it was out of sight, smiling slightly at the form her soul had taken._

_He'd granted her a free passage to Heaven's gates by personal escort. No trial, no entrapment inside the perfect memory. She would be granted a place in the true Heaven, and that one act had been one of the greatest mistakes Gabriel ever made._

_It wasn't a mistake to him, not ever. But in the eyes of his brothers and sisters he'd gone one step too far. He himself would never set foot inside of Heaven again._

_His memories shifted to a more modern age when burnings and executions were all but unheard of. He found himself leaning against a smooth windowsill, navy-blue janitor's jumpsuit clinging to his wrists in just that way he didn't like. There was a young man outside the glass, walking towards a certain 1967 Chevy Impala while his brother scuffed around along the stairs leading up to the building. It had been many, many years since he'd listened in on the whisperings of other angels, but he could recognize a destined vessel when he saw one. He had once been the mediator between Heaven and Earth, the bringer of prophecy, though he'd only had a handful of meaningful visions since his banishment from Heaven. The power he'd once had to foresee the life of mortals was waning, but as he watched Sam Winchester pace around the Impala towards it's weapon-laden trunk, his mind roiled with images of a dark and heavy future._

_Resting his head in his hands, he had tried to push the vision of Lucifer's vessel away. Oh yes, he could see exactly what this human would become. The blood he would drink, the cycle of revenge he would fall into, the terrible mistakes he would make. Right up until the point where Gabriel could hardly breath as he watched the world go up in flames with this, this __**child**__ at it's center, Lucifer's container and Michael's victim of war and self-indulgence. He wanted to scream._

_The two memories blurred together then, mixing and churning inside his head until they became one and the same. Instead of Joan burning at the stake, it was suddenly Sam, his mouth full of demon blood and his eyes holding the dark, wild look of the Devil inside of him. And he laughed as Gabriel could only stare in disbelief, rooted to the spot as the mixed-memory became more and more distorted. Because he'd once seen the future of a world that burned, Sam a wreath of flame right along with it._

With a sharp cry of alarm, the dark illusion in his mind breaking, he sat bolt upright, his chest rising and falling without an even pattern. His body sparked with pain, and he groaned, one hand rising to clutch at a bandaged shoulder before he slumped back down onto the ground. The fact that every inch of him hurt was just one more truth that proved his Father did not care about angels as much as he did humans. Humans had a choice between Heaven and Hell when they died based on the life they'd led. Angels only had one path, a life in Heaven versus a death in Hell where pain ironically still continued to exist. And for an angel, that was when it _began _to exist. At least, for most angels.

Gabriel had long been a resident of Earth, flitting between the planes even before that time. He was one of, if not the only, angel with a permanent physical image. After all a messenger needed a set visage, unlike Michael or Raphael who only made an appearance if the situation called for it. That was the reason he looked the exact same as he had when he'd died without a single mole out of place. He had no vessel, only himself. And right at the moment, himself was a really sucky person to be, and he hissed between his teeth as he tried to flex his wings. That was the only difference down here, the visibility of his wings. With only the barest essentials of his being left, Sam would be able to clearly see the prominent feature that classified him as an angel.

Sam- Gabriel's breath, if that's really what it could be called, caught in his throat, and his head whipped around in momentary panic, unable to catch sight of the Hunter. Oh god, he couldn't have dropped him when they had fallen, could he? Or what if some demon had followed them down and had taken him? Or maybe-

"You're awake."

The angel tensed, his shoulders hunching for a moment before he turned, letting his eyes fall on the man standing behind him. Sam's arms were full of frost covered branches, and he barely cast Gabriel a glance as he moved to set them down next to the small fire the other had failed to notice before. "That's good," Sam went on after an awkward bit of silence from the angel, "We can keep moving soon then."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at the blunt and, seemingly uncaring remark, feeling a flare of annoyance at the mortal man. He rubbed his shoulder, feeling the makeshift bandages that wound just below the cloth of his shirt and coat. "Well at least you didn't leave me to die," he muttered, not wanting to admit that he was grateful. He eyed the other as he shifted his hands up into his hair, smoothing it out and brushing the dirt and blood from the ends.

Sam didn't reply to the snide remark at first, and merely went about setting the branches around the fire to dry before he returned his gaze to the injured angel, his emerald eyes glinting with anger. "Well then that would be your own fault, wouldn't it? I told you to let me go, I never said to come with and protect me."

"I don't need to be told who's ass to save, I just do it," Gabriel snapped in reply. God, who did this kid think he was, mouthing off to him, an _archangel_?

"And I can take care of myself! I don't need to be saved!"

Gabriel snarled, unable to do much more in his current condition, "Oh, don't give me the same damn spiel you give to your brother! Don't you get the fact that if I lose you I've got absolutely _nothing _left?"

"You won't have anything left if you throw your life away either!" Sam hissed.

The angel inhaled slowly, tying to calm himself. He was the master at creating havoc, but he'd never been too good at controlling it. "That would be the pot calling the kettle black, Sammy," he said after a pause. "At the very least, you need to make it out. Yes, I need you to get out of this place, but if I disappeared there's still a chance you could find your way out on your own."

"But you said-" the Hunter started.

"I said that if I saved you once, I was stuck for life. So here I am," Gabriel smirked. "There's not much more that needs to be said beyond that. Now, what would you like for breakfast?" He laughed as the other stared at him, at a loss for words, and the angel snapped his fingers, a plate of steaming, syrup-drenched pancakes materializing on the ground between them. "Eat up, kiddo. We need to move on."

Sam picked up the plate cautiously, half expecting it to explode in his face or something after the sudden change in attitude. If he didn't know it was impossible, he would have said Gabriel was bipolar, except that as an angel he couldn't be. But his mood swings were more unpredictable than Dean's had ever been. He wondered if he'd be down here long enough to figure out the other's moods as well as he'd once been able to read his brother's. It would come in handy should they fight again, one event that was a certainty in the situation they were trapped in.

Gabriel shifted so that his chin rested on his knees as he watched the Hunter. His eyes lazily roamed over Sam's features, taking in every mole and scar almost as if he was planning on memorizing them. He hardly noticed that in the span of a few minutes, the plate had been emptied of all but the very last pancake, which Sam stared at in such a contemplative way that the archangel couldn't decide if he was either having the worlds most massive brain-fart, or was doing the deepest thinking he'd seen in a long while. "Sam-" he started, feeling just a tad concerned after this carried on for another minute or so. He didn't have the chance to finish the question however as the almost empty plate was suddenly thrust into his hands, the Hunter standing up and turning his back in one fluid motion. "You like them, right?" Sam mumbled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and training his eyes on the ice. When Gabriel remained stunned into silence, however, he was forced to elaborate. "Sweet things," he went on, "You like sweet things." "Uh, yeah," Gabriel said after another second to allow the utter shock to fade from his system. "How did you-"

"It's my job to remember things like that," the Hunter shrugged, which Gabriel took to mean, _"Drop it or die" _in the nicest terms possible.

So that's exactly what he did as he set about finishing off the last pancake, greedily lapping up the syrup from the plate before he vanished it away into thin air. God, he'd forgotten how much he adored sugar, being down here so long. It had hardly even crossed his mind to make himself food, he didn't need it like Sam did. But hey, since the human was being so generous, waste not want not. Licking the last traces of syrup off the ends of his fingers, he was too busy to notice that Sam had moved to kneel behind him. He jumped as the Hunter's fingers suddenly threaded neatly through the feathers on his upper left wing, "Hey, what are you-"

"No flying for you for awhile," Sam interrupted, catching hold of the base of the wing and stopping Gabriel from moving it on instinct. "There's a bad break near the joint, it's going to take awhile to heal without your angel-mojo. I'm just looking at it."

Gabriel shivered as Sam continued with whatever the hell he was doing, straightening out the feathers and tightening the bandages around the break. It's not like he could just up and say that angel's wings were a bit of a sensitive place, but this was getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute. "Sam . . ." he hissed, flexing his right wings in a warning for the human to, simply put, _back off_.

Sam paused, not getting the pretty obvious hint, "What?"

_Oh for-_ Gabriel sighed, rolling his eyes and praying to that damn higher power that just didn't care to forgive him, because he was abut to kill Sam Winchester. He inhaled a few deep breaths, trying to ignore the uneasy tingle that the other's hands send from his wings to his entire body, "Enough," he ground out after a moment, "I need to look at the map now that we're in the inner ring." For half a heartbeat, he thought Sam was going to protest, but instead, he obediently shuffled over so that their positions were reversed, his back to the archangel. Gabriel let his tensed wings relax, gritting his teeth at the sharp spike of pain from his broken one at even such a simple movement. "Coat, off," he commanded.

Strangely enough, Sam complied, unzipping it and pulling it off. He shuddered with cold almost instantly, but Gabriel pulled his wings around to block most of the wind chill from the other's skin. His upper left wing was still bent at an awkward angle, but he made do. He watched with semi-fascination as Sam shivered slightly under his touch as his fingers began tracing out the puckered, burn like circle on the center of the Hunter's back, his breath ghosting over the other's spine. The mark became red rather than the light pink it had been previously in a matter of seconds, and Gabriel narrowed his eyes and concentrated on the spot harder than before, willing the map to appear before him as it had refused to do previously.

Sam flinched away from the touch as his back sparked with pain, wincing, "Gabriel-" he breathed, biting his lip in an effort to keep his tone even.

The archangel growled warningly, "One second, kiddo. One second. I've almost got it." He skimmed the tips of his fingers over the raw-red circle once more, smirking in triumph as the burn suddenly spidered out from the original loop to form another not far from the first, bigger with it's center still along the line of Sam's spine. "There we go," he whispered, "The second circle." He shifted his stance and placed two fingers on the far edge of the inner ring, scissoring them apart and watching a straight line etch across from the first to the second loop.

The Hunter didn't miss the frown on the angel's face when he craned his head over his shoulder. "What is it?" he asked, fingers clenching against his pants with unease.

Gabriel shook his head, "Nothing you need to worry about, Sammy."

"Don't call me that," Sam hissed, "Now tell me what's wrong."

The Trickster raised his eyes up to meet Sam's with a scowl, "You don't want to know."

"Yes I do," the other insisted with what Dean would have dubbed as "Bitch Face Number Four."

Gabriel raised a single eyebrow, "Really? You want to know that the path says that we have to cross right through the middle of this frozen lake?"

For a long moment, Sam just stared at him, uncomprehending, "Wouldn't that be the fastest way to go?" he asked, confused.

"Of course," Gabriel snorted, "If we can just sneak lightly on by my big brother." He rolled his eyes as Sam stiffened, "The center of the lake is where Lucifer's cage is, bucko. And after I pulled you away from him, he's no doubt going to be pissed beyond belief."

Sam breathed out slowly, "O-oh. We really have to just," he made a motion with his hand past his chest, "walk right past him?"

"That's what the map says," Gabriel said with a grim smile.

Another long silence settled between them, at which time Gabriel chose to snap another t-shirt into existence over the Hunter's body, along with a light long sleeve button up. Sam gave him a small, grateful smile before he pulled on his coat, "So if Lucifer is there, is there any possibility that . . ." He drew off, not wanting to put voice to the question in his mind.

Gabriel pursed his lips, "Michael? No. If he knows what's good for him he won't be hanging anywhere around the inner circle. Not while Luci is all caged and raging again. Michael may be a bitch, but he's far from stupid." He narrowed his eyes in sudden understanding, "You're worried about his vessel . . ."

Sam gave him one of the saddest puppy-dog looks he'd ever seen in his life, and the archangel couldn't help but wilt under the gaze. "He's my little brother," Sam said softly, "and I pulled him down here. If there's some way, any way, that I can get him out, I have to try."

The angel sighed, standing up and stretching his arms over his head with a groan, "Winchesters," he said in exasperation, "They go where no man has gone before for family. When are you going to learn."

"Gabriel-" "I know, I know," the Trickster muttered, "he's your brother. Woo-freakin-hoo. Let's just follow the map for now, and if we see Michael, which no doubt we will with our amazing luck, then we'll talk about what to do with him then. Kapeesh?"

"Kapeesh," Sam grinned.

Percy had been a demon for a very long time, longer than he could possibly remember. A crossroads demon to be exact, skilled in the art of digging out the little nit-picky-details in a human's mind and using them to his advantage. He wormed his way into countless souls to find their darkest, greediest desires. And he was no stranger to dealing with Winchesters. His red eyes flickered as he stared down from the rocks into the deep gorge with the iced over lake at it's center. Somehow, he had to admit that it was really no surprise to him that the Winchesters had succeeded in taking down his lord. When had they ever failed to get exactly what they wanted? He sneered in disgust at the thought, remembering that he had once tried to bargain for Dean's soul only to get his just desserts in the end. He'd promised, hadn't he? That if he ever crawled back out of hell he'd make Dean suffer.

Except that now it seemed he didn't have to try and claw his way to the surface again to do so. Here, in his territory, was Dean's greatest weakness. It was just too perfect. Percy licked his lips in anticipation of the things he could do to Dean's little brother, how to make him scream and beg for mercy he would never get. Delicious.

"Percy?" His eyes narrowed at the voice, as though he'd forgotten his companion was there, and he turned towards her with a dark scowl. Unlike most demons that he met, her physical image had yet to decay into the rotting, disgusting mess one would see as the visage of most of his kind down here. He knew she was still too fresh from life for it to happen just yet, but it made him uneasy all the same. After all, he'd been the one who had drawn her here in the first place and bargained for her soul. It was all in a good days work before, but now he could barely keep tabs on his uncertainty.

Most humans he dealt with were so full of greed that he had no trouble corrupting their souls to fit his whim. Their wishes were self centered, and impure. There'd only been a few that he'd ever met who had wished for something righteous. If he could even call it that. The wishes were still selfish, but they were ones he felt disgusted at granting. They were somehow pure, in a way he could not describe. The man Dean had risked his life to save had been the first of on the small list. He'd wished for his wife's life to be spared.

The second had been her. One of the only people he'd ever come to as a child. Her wish had been so strong, it had lured him in. He had no qualms about killing her parents for her, they would be sent to his world for the things they'd done, and in the mother's case, overlooked.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he glanced over at her with a well placed scowl, though he was sure it looked ten times worse without a proper body to hold it, "What is it?" he snarled, displeased that she had not addressed him more properly. He was, after all, very old. And thus a higher rank. She should have d more respect.

Ignoring the look shot her way, the young woman tilted her head to the side, long dark-brown hair falling lightly over her shoulders. "I'm just asking what exactly it is you want me to do, love," she said slowly, her accent clear and her once hazel eyes as black as any experienced demon's. It had been a little over three hundred and sixty years since she'd died, at least down here that's how long it had been. She'd counted. Upstairs though, was another matter, and she wondered briefly how much Sam Winchester had aged.

Percy looked down at her with distaste, despising how she still kept choosing to address him so rudely. Hell, he even disliked the name he'd been given. He could not remember his name from when he'd been alive, it was much too long ago. The fact that the other demons referred to him as Percy irked him immensely, but he'd found it impossible to change it this late in the game. The name had stuck, referencing his old fashioned ways and the gods he'd once believed in. He snorted in mild annoyance, and looked away from her, "The didn't think twice about leaving you there to die, did they," he mused audibly. He wanted to fuel her hatred, make sure she would get the job done. With her appearance still as it was, she would be his perfect Trojan Horse in this little game.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, "No," she replied smoothly, the tone a little too practiced for Percy's liking but he waved the thought away.

"You'll do as I say then, won't you? Help me make them suffer as they should have many times over before now?" He tilted his head to the side, surveying her closely. He could not afford any slipups, but her loyalty was a chance he'd have to take for now. She nodded curtly, and he took that as a good enough response for the time being. "Very good," he hissed. "Then you know what I need you to do then, don't you, Bela?"

The demon who had once been Bela Talbot smiled darkly, amused. "Of course. They let me die, they didn't even care that they would have done the same in my position." She shrugged, "I'll take care of Sam Winchester, Percy. Don't you worry."

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

ARGH! I'm SOOOOOOO sorry. But my laptop died, so I had to get a new one. And get Geek Squad to recover my data for the fics and all, so a big pain and lot of spent money.

Anywho . . . I'm going to try and finish this before the Season 6 premiere in September still, so quick updates again. O_O

Percy is the one and only OC I've ever used. Ever. And he's not even that OC, he's the crossroads demon from season 2. I like him a lot. He was in a Supernatural novel I submitted a year or so ago because I was PO-ed that the guy who writes the current ones sucks so much. But it didn't go through, it was too slashy. So I'll probably rewrite it a bit and post it here after this fic is done. *thumbs up* Don't worry, it has lots of Gabriel. It was written right after Changing Channels I think.

Anywho . . . For those of you who guessed Bela, you can see u are correct! She's the only girl who makes it into my top ten fav characters in this show so . . . Yeah. I love her a lot. And was pissed when she died. For those of you who guessed Meg, don't worry about her. She has other plans that are going on in the upper world to bother with right now. I have a sequel for this story planned to come out after 6.01 airs (I need to see Castiel's grand entrance first) that she'll be in. :D

For those of you who guessed Ruby, I hate her guts very much. Corrupting my Sammy. D:


	4. Chapter 4

**Crossing The Inferno: Good Omens**

Gabriel was getting increasingly tired of looking at the horizon, an endless, unchanging landscape of ice and snow. It was tedious to stare at, and rather boring after two or three days. In fact, it was really starting to piss him off. His shoulders hunched and he stuffed his hands deep in his pockets with a growl of annoyance, shivering slightly as a cold wind whipped up around them.

His eyes widened as he realized what he'd just done, and he stopped walking, whole body tensing in shock. While he'd been in Hell awhile now, and bled on multiple occasions, he'd never _felt_ anything. Certainly not cold. Biting his lip and pushing down the wave of panic that threatened to make itself known vocally, he snapped his fingers, materializing a coat on his person. A small sigh escaped him, and he pushed the matter to the back of his mind for later contemplation. He couldn't get all worked up, after all, not with Sam there. It would hardly do to have the _angel_ completely fall apart. Though he had to say he was tempted.

Remembering his companion, he glanced at Sam out of the corners of his eyes, the Hunter staring at him oddly from where he stood off to his right. "You cold, kiddo?" he asked lightly, ignoring the raised eyebrow thrown his way. No one got to raise an eyebrow at the _Trickster_.

Sam shrugged, looking away, "No more than usual. It's fine."

The angel rolled his eyes, feeling a tad bit frustrated at this admission, "You mean to say that you've been cold this entire time we've been walking? It's been three days or so, Sammy. Speak up, would you?"

The Hunter stiffened, "Why?" he said coldly, "It's not like you've ever done much to help me before. As I recall, you seemed perfectly fine with trapping me in my own personal version of Hell for hundreds of days."

Gabriel tensed, his wings flaring slightly in anger. _No, no_, he thought,_ he's just mad. He doesn't deserve to know all you've done for him. Don't say anything._ "Hey," he smirked darkly, "What can I say? I like to watch you squirm." He licked his lips pointedly, giving Sam a once over and watching with mild satisfaction as the Hunter's eyes turned into shocked saucers. _Serves him right_. He shrugged and snapped his fingers once more, a thick viridian green scarf falling over the younger Winchester's shoulders.

Sam's eyes continued to remain obnoxiously large as Gabriel walked away, making his way across the ice once again. He reached up and touched the scarf, feeling confused, but no longer as cold as he'd been before. Smiling slightly, he hurried to catch up with the angel, breathing hard as he struggled to keep his footing on the snow and frost. "Why green?" he asked nonchalantly, groaning inwardly as he realized he was trying to make small talk. Dean would be ashamed of him. But it had been a rather dull three days without so much as ten words between them. And in Sam's opinion, part of being a living, breathing human being was communication. Since he planned to get out of here as such, he might as well try to spark a conversation.

Gabriel gave him the classic Trickster eyebrow in response before saying sarcastically, "Because you've been sorted into Slytherin. Any more questions?"

The Hunter stared at him for a moment, wracking his brain for some since he'd gotten such a lovely invitation. "Umm . . . What's your first memory?"

The angel's steps faltered for a brief moment, and he waited for Sam to catch up properly before he curled his right wings over him with a teasing smile, "Why, Sammy, I didn't know you cared." Dean would have called the look Sam shot him 'Bitch Face Number Three.' "We're going to be down here a long time, aren't we," Sam muttered, "So might as well start with the interesting topics and work our way down to the boring ones so we don't kill each other right away."

Gabriel thought about this for a moment, "My life story is pretty far from interesting, I'd say. But sure, I'll indulge you, if that's what you really want. But it's not exactly a pretty memory."

"It's not?" Sam asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Not for someone with your experiences to hear," Gabriel said softly. "This first thing I remember is Lucifer, taking me by the hand and showing me his favorite place in Eden. I remember every detail of that day, the smell of the dew on the grass, the colors of the flowers, the fruit on the trees. Everything. And it was the same place, a long time later, I showed to Castiel when he came about." He glanced at Sam, honey-sweet eyes clouded with something the Hunter recognized all too well. Love for his brothers.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. For what, he wasn't sure. For being human? The very creature Lucifer had so despised it had caused him to Fall?

Gabriel smirked, "You've nothing to be sorry for, Sam. Now, quid-pro-quo, I think it's your turn."

Sam looked startled for a second, as if he hadn't expected to be asked, "Ummm . . . I really don't know."

"Avoiding the question?"

"No," Sam snapped, "I really can't remember anything that could possibly be my first memory. My life was so jumbled up back then, motel after motel, car ride after car ride, school after school. The only constant things were Dean, Dad, and the Impala." He waved a hand in dissatisfaction, "Let me think about it."

The angel nodded, taking this as being an end to their oh so short conversation. He was startled as he felt his own small-talk question bubble up in his throat and out before he could stop it. "What's the best trick you've ever played on someone?" Gabriel really wanted to smack himself for that one. It was such a cliché thing for him to ask. Especially him.

But to his faint surprise, Sam blinked with genuine amusement, "Pranks are more of Dean's thing, but this one time I made a fake call to these, er, friends of ours, the Ghost Facers. Told them I was a Hollywood director and was gonna make a movie about them. They fell for it."

"Oh," Gabriel said, unsure of what the correct response would be. It wasn't exactly his idea of a great joke, but it had probably been pretty funny to Sam, which was what mattered. He was immensely relieved when the Hunter didn't turn the question right back around on him.

He wasn't sure what he'd have said if he had.

Another long moment of silence stretched before Sam spoke again, and Gabriel wondered if he'd been mulling over a long list of possible questions to bother him with in his head during that time. "You're not very angel-like, are you?" That wasn't the sort of question he'd been expecting, and his eyes narrowed in confusion and annoyance.

"Excuse me?" Sam held up his hands defensively, "No, that's not- I didn't mean it in a bad way, it's just . . ." He sighed, "I was around Cass all the time, and you're . . ."

"Different?" Gabriel finished smoothly, entertaining the thought of his odd little brother being what Sam considered a normal angel to be like. "How am I different?" he wanted to hear Sam list the ways, if only to pass the time.

"You eat," Sam started, "Sweet things at least. You do it out of the love for the taste, not necessity, right? Or is it just a ruse for your original disguise as a Trickster."

Gabriel smiled, "It started out like that, I'm sure. But yeah, sugar is my kick, Dad's greatest invention." He put his hands behind his head as he walked, "Well, besides the enormous population of thick-headed-humans."

The Hunter snorted, but ignored the jest and continued on, "And you like sex, I assume." He added, remembering all too well what the angel's final farewell had been contained in.

"Love it," Gabriel agreed. "Changed my mind, sex is better than sugar. _That's_ Dad's best work right there. Mmmm." He closed his eyes, grinning.

"And you laugh," Sam said quietly, as if that was the most uncharacteristic angel trait of all.

The Trickster opened his eyes again, "Zachariah laughs."

"Yeah, but it's cold, fake," Sam shuddered at the memory of it.

"True," Gabriel said thoughtfully. "Is it really so weird?"

Sam pulled his lower lip up between his teeth, thinking about it. "Yeah, kind of. Laugher is the same as happiness, it's part of having emotions. I've never heard Castiel laugh. Ever."

"It'd probably be creepy," Gabriel chuckled. "Little bro isn't really the laughing type, emotions or not. He's too out of it, too innocent." He stretched his arms up over his head with a sigh, "Though if you ever asked Dean, I'd bet a million that he's heard Castiel laugh."

Sam looked intrigued at this statement, "Why's that?"

Gabriel stopped walking for a moment, giving Sam a look that clearly stated, _"Oh my god you're stupid,"_ flexing his wings and wincing slightly at the dull, still healing ache in his upper left one. "Because Cass- wait, you really don't know?" He frowned as he was met with "Bitch Face Number Seven." Rolling his eyes in exasperation, he decided to say it slowly, and of course, mockingly, "Because to Cass, the most important thing in the whole world to him, even before Daddio, is your big brother."

Sam looked stricken, "You're not saying that . . ." He swallowed thickly in disbelief, his mind suddenly calling up memories that suddenly made a little _too much_ sense. The way Castiel looked at Dean, the way they fought, and talked as though they never needed to hear all the words the other was about to say. He made a face, "He really . . ."

"Loves him?" Gabriel supplied very unhelpfully, "No. Not yet, anyways. Cass is . . . Difficult. He doesn't yet know how too recognize that feeling. But I'm sure he will, given time." He shrugged, it didn't really matter to him unless he got out of this cursed place soon enough to see it all unfold. Because there was no doubt in his mind it would be quite a sight to see indeed.. He planned to buy a video camera to document it with, and use for blackmail later.

Humming to himself at the idea, he didn't notice the anguished look that had suddenly crossed Sam's face at his words. It wasn't until a few minutes later, the Hunter stumbling significantly farther behind, that he realized it. "Sammy?" he slowed, coming up beside him and putting a worried hand on his shoulder. Wait, no, he wasn't _worried_. Just . . . Mildly concerned. Sam was his ticket out of this very literal hell hole, after all.

The Hunter shook his head, "S'nothing. Can we just . . . Can we stop for today? I'm suddenly really tired."

"Yeah, all right," Gabriel conceded. It's not like they were on a time schedule or anything. In fact, stuck down here as they were, they had all the time in the world. He tugged at Sam's jacket sleeve, pulling him down as he snapped his fingers, a mound of blankets and a warm, already lit fire appearing on the surface of the frozen lake where they stood.

Sam sighed gratefully and spread a blanket or two out on the ice beside the flames, wrapping another around his shoulders before he pulled his legs up against his chest and buried his face in the pocket between his knees and his sternum. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, but made no comment. Whatever demons, literal or physiological, Sam was battling with, he really couldn't interfere unless the other let him.

The Hunter closed his eyes to the world, if he could even so much as call it that, around him with a groan of despair. Gabriel's admission of Castiel's feelings would have normally made him laugh, or even smile. And he may have done just that, if he hadn't suddenly remembered one of the last things the devil had done in his body. One of the last things _he_ had done on the mortal plane.

"_Castiel . . . Did you just Molotov my brother . . . With Holy Fire?"_

"_Uh, no."_

The brief flash of panic on Dean's face made sense now, and made the memory only hurt worse in his mind.

"_No one dicks with Michael but me."_

The glance between the fallen angel and his brother that conveyed suddenly all too much. _"I'm sorry," _and _"Please God, No," _all at once. And then he'd snapped his fingers, and exploded Castiel into a thousand pieces.

Dean's anguished cry of, _"NO!"_ echoed in his ears, unforgiving. He'd done that. He'd killed his brother's angel with his own hands. And Gabriel's suggestion of what may have been only made it that much worse.

He flinched as he felt the angel's wings wrap loosely around him again. He didn't deserve pity, not after he'd willingly let Lucifer into his body. It was his fault that Castiel and Bobby were dead, his fault Adam was as trapped down here as he was, his fault Dean was all alone. He turned away from the other with a snarl of anger, mostly at himself.

Gabriel started, having not been expecting such a reaction, "Sam-"

The mortal whirled on him, pure rage in his eyes, "Don't touch me! I don't deserve your pity, I don't deserve _anyone's_ pity! Not after what I've done!" "You sent Lucifer back to Hell," The Trickster replied calmly, "That is not something to be ashamed of. I'd be having a party, if I were you." He tried to smile, but the look on Sam's face made him stop halfway.

"I killed your brother," Sam growled.

"Luci and Mike can handle themselves just fine down here, they're far from dead."

Sam's shoulders shook with remorse and fury, "I killed Castiel," he said as calmly as he possibly could, waiting for the inevitable retaliation. He knew very well that Gabriel was especially fond of his younger brother.

Gabriel's eyes widened slightly before he closed them, tilting his head to the side as though he were listening for something. "No," he said after a moment, "You didn't."

"I snapped my fingers and he died!" Sam shrieked, unable to contain his guilt, "He exploded into a million tiny pieces right in front of my brother!" He lunged forward, fingers digging into the front of the archangel's coat and into skin just below, watching with slight satisfaction as Gabriel cringed.

"Let me rephrase that," the angel tried, prying Sam's hands away from him with an iron-grip. "You may have killed him, but he's not dead. Or I'd be able to sense him here in Hell. Get it?" "Not dead," Sam repeated dully, eyes blank.

"No, not dead," Gabriel assured, placing his hands on either side of the Hunter's face and forcing him to meet his eyes. "It's not like it's never happened before, right? God looks out for the Winchesters, and those who help them. Even if he's AWOL, and a total asshole, he would never leave Dean all alone after all he's done for humanity. The same goes for my little bro."

Sam sucked in a breath of disbelief, "Then why are you here?" he asked before he could stop himself.

For a minute, Gabriel was silent, and Sam wondered if he'd said too much. But the archangel smiled broadly, "As I said, God looks out for the Winchesters. I'm here because someone needs to take care of your sorry ass, Sammy. It wouldn't do to just have you rot down here in this con-fuckery."

At this, Sam laughed. Gabriel took his hands away from the human's face and watched as he laughed, and laughed, and laughed until tears fell from his eyes. Grateful, regretful tears. "I always believed you would help us, you know," he said softly, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"Really?" Gabriel asked sarcastically, "Because I didn't. You muttonheads could have probably won the war all on your own."

Sam shook his head, "Maybe so. But we would have lost a hell of a lot more than we did. As it is, it's just me and you down here, and maybe Adam. If we can get out, we didn't lose much at all." He smiled, "You're officially Team Free Will for that."

"I'm a Team Jacob man myself," The Trickster smirked, not really meaning it but the look on Sam's face was worth it all the same. "Do we get t-shirts?"

"Uh, no."

"Damn. It's not a very fun club if you can't have a t-shirt," he pretended to whine, enjoying the odd look Sam gave him. Sam was full of odd looks, really. Maybe one day he'd be able to tell them apart. He'd work on it. "Now that we're done angsting, would you like to go back to the awkward question game?"

The Hunter blinked, "They were hardly awkward."

"You asked me if I liked sex, Sammy. It was awkward."

Sam blushed furiously, and Gabriel grinned, amazed by the younger Winchester's embarrassment sometimes. Unlike Dean, who would just stare at him like, _"So?"_ This was much more entertaining. "Fine, um, tell me about one of your siblings I've never heard about before," Sam muttered.

"Lame," Gabriel snorted, "But I'll concede. Let's see . . ." He propped a hand up on his knee, resting his chin against his palm and stretching his other hand out towards the warmth of the fire. "I have a brother named Aziraphale. He's quite a ditz, really. Even compared to Cass. But at least he has the whole _'pretend to be human' _thing down better than him. He runs this cute little bookstore in England right now, I think. It's been a long time since we've talked, so I'm not exactly sure. Last I heard he was still hanging around this very fruity demon, but again, it was awhile ago."

The other looked faintly amused at this, and smiled, "You have a lot of siblings, don't you."

"Buckets full of 'em," Gabriel mused, making a face. "And most are dicks. Which is one of the many, many reasons I quit Heaven long ago. It's not fun to prank anyone that will actually try and kill you for it, and not find it funny in the slightest."

Sam raised an eyebrow, but he was not about to remind Gabriel that that was exactly what he had done a few years back. No need to drudge up old grievances, at least not at the moment. Gabriel however, looked at him at that moment in such a way that he had no doubt that the archangel knew what he'd been thinking, and he wilted slightly under the gaze, though he didn't know why. It had been the other who had hurt him, not the other way around. But the look The Trickster gave him was almost as though it had been, and that somehow, those couple hundred Tuesdays, six months, and two Wednesdays, were his fault, and his alone. Ignoring the sugar-gold eyes on him he turned towards the fire, perfectly content to settle down right then and there to sleep.

Gabriel, however, seemed to have other ideas as he snapped a sucker into existence in his hand, leaning back and staring at Sam contemplatively before licking it. "Figured out your first memory yet, kid?"

The Hunter ignored the remark on his age and raised his eyes to the angel again, "It's not much of a memory, really," he said finally, thinking about it for a long moment. "More of a voice."

"A voice," Gabriel echoed, curious. "And what was this voice saying?"

Sam shrugged, "I can't remember most of it. But . . ." He closed his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "There were arms around me, holding me safe and warm. And the voice was saying, _'You're special, Sammy. Important, wanted. You'll do something amazing one day.'_" He paused, looking sheepish, "But, it's probably just something I made up in my head. It's so cheesy." He blinked, noticing the startled look Gabriel was giving him, "What?"

"You _remember_ that?" The archangel breathed, absolutely stunned. "_No one_ ever remembers that."

"Huh?" Sam couldn't help the utter confusion in his tone.

"Do you know all of the duties I once held as an archangel, Sam?" The Trickster asked suddenly.

The human licked his lips uncertainly, "I know a lot of them," he replied slowly, unsure of the point the angel was getting at. "Like how you're the one who's supposed to signal the end of the Apocalypse with your horn."

"Correct," Gabriel drawled, "But do you know that I was, up until the day I died, actually, the Keeper of Souls?" Sam shook his head, and the angel's mouth quirked up into a small smile of amusement. "I used illusion versions of myself to get it all done, of course, it would be impossible otherwise. But it was my job to take each and every soul to it's place in it's mothers womb and whisper the secrets of God to them until they were born."

Sam's eyebrows raised, the information clearly previously unknown to him. "Then why don't we know those secrets from birth?" he asked.

"Because I place a seal on every soul so that until the time you ascend to heaven, you can't remember them," Gabriel informed. He placed his hands on the frozen ground behind him, balancing his weight on his palms from where he sat. "It's the cleft underneath a person's nose on the top of their lip. That's the seal." A small, strangely distant smile crossed his features, "I remember giving you yours."

The Hunter's hand raised up to touch the small indentation in question, "You do?"

"I do," the angel echoed. "Yours is especially deep, haven't you noticed? That's because with all the things that you would do, I couldn't let there be a risk those secrets would get out." He tilted his head to the side, "That's the memory you have."

It hurt for him to recall, really. Holding that newborn child, so tiny and helpless in his arms and _knowing_ full well what he would one day become. A vessel, a tool, a weapon. It was not a life he'd wish upon anyone. And when Sam had cried, he soothed him back to sleep, whispering that he was special and would one day do something amazing. They'd just been words, at the time. But he should have known better, as the bringer of prophecy. The words had been, unknowingly, true.

He shrugged, "You were one of the few I ever bothered to come to as myself. Human souls are all the same once you see a few million. But I remember most of your family. Marry, John, Dean, Adam, all of them." He smirked, "You were the only one that cried."

"That's because you're scary," Sam joked.

Gabriel pretended to look offended, "Says the Sasquatch." He set his sucker down in the snow, with little intention of coming back to it later, "You wanna fight?"

Sam frowned, before the look quickly turned into a grin, as he scooped up some snow at his feet, quickly molding it into a ball before he hurled it at Gabriel's head. The archangel merely blinked, catching it as it swerved into his hand. "None of that," Sam scolded lightly, "You have to play fair." He stood quickly as a volley of snowballs suddenly fell down onto him from the air, Gabriel not even moving an inch, still holding the one Sam had made in his hand.

Scrambling to his feet, Sam ran for it, ducking as the snowballs followed him mercilessly across the ice. He stumbled and fell on his face, rolling over and wadding a handful of snow against his palm just in time to see Gabriel standing over him, positively giddy in full Trickster glory. At least until Sam chucked the newly made snowball at him full force in the face. He'd expected the angel to catch it, but apparently he'd been gloating so much he'd forgotten to. As the snow dripped down off of The Trickster's face to reveal very unamused honey eyes, Sam smiled innocently, "Umm . . . Oops?" "Oops?" Gabriel growled, the tone startling Sam for a second until he caught the glint of laughter in the angel's gaze. "_Oops?_"

Sam shrieked as Gabriel pounced on him, dark feathers falling around them as the archangel straddled him, smearing snow in his face. He laughed, gasping for breath as the other pinched his cheeks, pulling his mouth into odd contortions all the while asking, "Uncle? Uncle?" over and over. It reminded him of how Dean used to torture him when he was little, sitting on him until he squealed uncle, and even then being just a little too relentless with an after-punishment. "Uncle!" he gasped finally as Gabriel dug his knee into his side, making him breathless.

Gabriel grinned wildly, "Surrendering so soon? Not much of a Winchester, are you." He held his ground as Sam started to struggle again, pulling on the other's cheeks with a smirk. His thumb strayed against the soft indentation on the Hunter's upper lip, and he paused, breath catching in his throat. Suddenly, the position he found himself in was very compromising indeed. One leg was tangled around one of Sam's digging into his hip, the opposite knee resting between the human's thighs. He tensed, gazing down at his hands on the other's face and noticing the glazed look that had suddenly come into Sam's eyes. It was all he could do not to lean closer. Shivering slightly, he felt Sam's fingers weave up into his wings, tangling in his feathers.

It was then that Sam's hand accidentally brushed against the bandages on Gabriel's upper left wing, and the archangel winced with pain, his eyes widening slightly before he stumbled back in realization. Sam sat up, rubbing at his bruising cheeks in slight confusion. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Just stop, Sam," Gabriel cut in, standing up and brushing the snow off his pants with a frown. "Don't say anything. Let it go." He bit his lip as he made his way back to the fire. What the hell had he been _doing_? He was The Trickster. He tempter, not the tempted. Especially not by someone like Sam. And damn, the kid had looked so innocent about it too, probably hadn't realized what Gabriel had wanted to do to him. He growled in frustration, flopping down in front of the popping fire and pulling a blanket up over his legs. They had a long, _long_ way to go. It wouldn't do to make things more complicated this early in the journey. Or at all, if he had his way. No. Nothing could happen between them, it would only make this whole situation harder on Sam, and that was the last thing he wanted.

To his surprise, Sam sat down beside him without a word, leaning heavily against his right shoulder, glancing at Gabriel's sagging left wing with hardened eyes. "It's not your fault, kiddo," the archangel said softly. "It'll heal, in time. Get some sleep, okay? We're nearly at old Luci's cage." He curled his good wings around the Hunter, and as Sam drifted off, he wondered exactly what he'd gotten himself into.

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

No Bela this chapter. She'll show up once they get outside the inner ring. But you got some MOE this chapter between stupid-one and stupid-two. Btw, all the shite about the mark under the nose is true stuff, it's in my giant book of angels that I have propped open on my lap right now on the Gabriel section. My handy-dandy reference of all things Gabe. Which reminds me. I think Sam will invent that nickname next chapter, hmm? Sounds good. I'm workin overtime here, peeps. Trying to get it done before the 24th of September, which I guess is the new release date for S6? It was the 10th or something before. = 3= oh well, just means I won't have to hurry home from Con anymore. Thank gawd. But that means it's on the same day Legend of The Guardians comes out . . . O_O Ah, SPN, why makin my life so hectic?

And if anyone can tell me why I named the chapter Good Omens, I'll give u a cookie. Hint: it has to do with a certain little foreshadowed angel I mentioned. :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Crossing The Inferno: Turning The Pages**

_Gabriel remembered sitting in the overstuffed, and yet strangely comfortable armchair by the front window of Aziraphale's shop. The younger angel was perched on his desk, an old, leather bound book balanced on his lap while his right arm rested on a precarious stack of newer tomes. Silence stretched endlessly between them, it was a Tuesday afternoon, and all of the few and far between potential customers were at work. Out of all his brothers, Aziraphale was the only one Gabriel could stand being in the same room with for so long. He was quiet, thoughtful, and only ever spoke up when he had something important to say. The exact opposite of most of Gabriel's other companions. Stretching his arms over his head, his body uncurling like a cat after sleep, he closed his book, "Az, you ever gonna go back to Heaven?" Aziraphale looked up with a frown, "What a ridiculous notion. Of course not," he drawled, returning his eyes to the book. He was scribbling down little notes on a pad of paper beside him as he read. After a moment however, he coolly shot back, "And you're not either, I presume."_

"_No chance," Gabriel smiled. "I have too much fun down here. Which is why I have to spend the last days of earth wreaking havoc as usual."_

"_The last days of earth?" Aziraphale echoed, still engrossed in the musty old book on his knees. _

_At this, Gabriel gave him a characteristic eyebrow raise, "Surely you've heard, bro. The Apocalypse is coming."_

_The younger angel glanced up with a bored stare, "It's always coming. We have a scare here and there every few years." He rested his chin in his palm, "The Antichrist I once knew will be turning twenty two this year. He's a grown man, and no longer of much of a threat to anyone."_

"_There's a new one," Gabriel started._

"_There's always a new one," Aziraphale sighed._

"_And the vessels-"_

_Aziraphale looked mildly interested as Gabriel started to speak again, "The vessels? That is new. They're not as common. You've met them, I suppose?"_

_Gabriel rested his hands in his lap, curling his fingers uncomfortably, "Not officially, no."_

_The younger angel's eyes narrowed, "You do not want to. Why? They are God's chosen. You should have been looking after them, watching over them, giving them reasons __**not**__ to say yes. Why are you here, Gabriel? When you should be there."_

_The archangel frowned, "I just want it to be over. If we let them fight, it'll all be over, and we won't have to sit around with our thumbs up our ass waiting anymore."_

"_So you'll give our brothers those children without a second thought. You, the protector of men, God's mouthpiece." Aziraphale shook his head, his blue eyes full of remorse, "You are a coward, Gabriel."_

_Fury blazed in Gabriel's eyes, "I am no coward! I don't want to watch them tear each other apart! They're my family, no matter how long I've been away! Interfering means choosing a side!" He stood, striding over to his brother and flinging the book to the ground._

_The old leather volume hit the floor and skidded across the hardwood, it's worn old pages crinkling and bending. Aziraphale scowled, "That was a very important text there, brother," he said softly, though his blue eyes glinted with anger. He shoved himself away from the desk until he was nose to nose with Gabriel, or rather, nose to eye. Aziraphale was a few inches taller than the other. Sweeping his long, tied back silver-blond hair over his shoulder, the younger angel adjusted his glasses on his nose and sighed, "Gabriel, you look at the world in black and white. Have you ever thought that maybe there was a gray mixed in there somewhere?"_

_Gabriel bit his lip, "What?" Aziraphale smiled, "Humans, demons, angels, sometimes we all want the same thing. Freedom is the most prized treasure of all, Gabriel. And Father gave every one of us a choice. Though the third path may be a bit harder to find your way on, that never means it's the wrong one."_

"_Demon lover," Gabriel hissed between his teeth, disregarding the rest of the short speech. He hadn't forgotten his sibling's fondness for one in particular, and the memory irked him to no end. _

"_Thank you for that obvious statement," Aziraphale smirked, "And by that same token, are you not the same towards humans? I recall your endearment towards Joan of Arc with perfect clarity, brother." He was not surprised to find himself suddenly thrown up against the desk, his back bending painfully over the stacks of books that began to topple over onto the chair behind. "You loved her like your own child, Gabriel. Don't think I don't know. And I can see in your eyes that it is for a similar reason you've been avoiding the vessels. Is it not?" He smiled, "You're afraid of watching them die."_

"_I'm no coward," Gabriel growled. "I held that child in my arms, knowing full well what he would grow up to be. You can't possibly understand what having that knowledge is like. I never __**asked**__ to be Father's tool like this. I don't __**want**__ to know what the future will bring." His nails dug into Aziraphale's skin, his eyebrows furrowing together._

_Aziraphale's eyes drifted to the book lying on the floor where Gabriel had tossed it, the fading letters spelling out something along the lines of "Nice and Accurate Prophecies" on it's cover just visible in the London afternoon light. "I understand more than you think, brother. What you don't seem to understand is that knowing is half the battle. If you know what's to come about, you can do something about it, can you not?"_

_Gabriel inhaled slowly, his grip on the other loosening, "It's fate-"_

"_Nothing is ever set in stone, even when a prophet writes it," Aziraphale smiled. "Why don't you meet these vessels in person, Gabriel? See their strength and their souls with your own eyes. There is always room for people to change, you just have to give them a shove in the right direction. Humanity is a beautiful thing."_

Gabriel blinked, honey eyes straining out over the frozen landscape beyond the fire. Lucifer was just beyond the horizon, he could sense it, it made his spine tingle with unease. Beside him, Sam shifted in his sleep, mumbled words forming before dying o his lisp with a soft snore. The archangel frowned, recalling his brother's words with a flash of annoyance. Humanity was weak, pitiful, worthless on many degrees. But he had been right about one thing. Humans could change. They were flawed, no doubt. But they could forgive.

Sam had forgiven him, he knew that very well. It was a strained forgiveness, teetering on the edge of that same raw hatred he'd born those six months Gabriel had trapped him in the illusion of Dean's demise. But he'd been forgiven. He'd heard the words out of Sam's mouth just before he'd lured them into TV land.

"_Maybe he can help us."_

He'd done no such thing. Dean was right to call him untrustworthy. After all, he wouldn't be much of a Trickster if he was. But all the same, Sam had wanted his help. Had still wanted it when he'd saved them from the pagan gods and Lucifer. He couldn't understand why. After everything he'd done, though in his own foolish way he'd been trying to help, Sam still put his trust in him. It didn't make any sense.

Sam wiggled closer to him in his sleep, a deep frown forming on his face. Gabriel recognized the look immediately, he'd seen in on the other's face many times before when he may or may not have been checking up on him in the night. _Nightmare_, he thought sourly, snapping his fingers. A soft blanket of flowers and grass spread out beneath him, completely fake, but real enough to the human senses. Trees sprung up from the ground and obscured the vision of Hell on the horizon, a warm ray of illusion crafted sunlight splashing down to hit Sam right in the eyes.

The Hunter snorted, sitting bolt upright, his chest heaving for breath. For a long moment he looked around, disbelief clear in his eyes before his gaze found Gabriel. "Wh-" he started, obviously confused.

"You were having a bad dream," Gabriel replied smoothly, waving a hand to make one of the flowers grow particularly tall, tickling Sam under the nose. "Waking up in Hell would have only made it worse. I can give you this instead." He tilted his head to the side, procuring an ice-cream bar in one hand and a plate of eggs and bacon in the other.

Hesitantly, Sam took the plate, the frown on his face lessoned, but still there all the same. "Thanks," Gabriel raised an eyebrow at the lack of actual gratitude in the words. Typical Sam, oblivious to when people were trying to help him. He placed the plate on his lap and picked at the food, hardly touching it as Gabriel snarfed down his ice-cream and stood up, walking around the small illusion with a bored look on his face. Sam watched as the archangel stood some distance away, reaching his arms up over his head and stretching his wings out as far as he could, the top left one still hanging just a bit lower than it's partner. Seeing the wings only reminded him of Michael, however, and he stuck a piece of bacon in his mouth before he asked, "How much farther till we pass The Cage?"

Gabriel lowered his arms, the corner of his mouth twitching, "An hour or so, I suspect."

Sam nodded in reply, eating the rest of the food on the plate before he too stood up, waving a hand at one of the trees and watching as it vanished appropriately, revealing the barren ice and snow beyond. Wrapping his scarf around his neck, he set off without even so much as a backward glance at the angel.

The Trickster snorted in annoyance and hurried after him, flexing his wings as he went. If he kept moving it, he was sure he'd be able to get it back in working order in the next day or so. Which would be convenient once they reached the opposite side of the lake, he was not looking forward to trying to scale the slick rocky walls again to reach the border of the eight circle.

Half an hour passed before the horizon began to change, Gabriel's superior eyes noticing the large upward spike of ice on the edge of his vision first. The air hummed with power even at this distance, and he couldn't help but slow his steps at the prospect of seeing his brother, chained and trapped in the depths of this place. Sam continued to march purposely forward, and Gabriel cringed, wondering why Winchesters had such a vendetta complex when it came to things like this.

Picking up the pace as the spires of ice became closer and closer, he managed to get ahead of Sam, turning to face him and flaring his wings out. Sam, intelligently, stopped and stared at him, eyes narrowed with a grim determination. Gabriel growled. "I don't care what the hell you're planning to do in the next few minutes, Sammy. But under no circumstances, _none_, are you to touch Lucifer. Not even with the tippy-tip of you pinky toe. Do you understand me?"

Sam merely snarled, and tried to sidestep the angel, but Gabriel leapt in his path again, beating his wings and whipping up a wind around them, "Do you _understand_? He repeated, unable to keep the anger from his voice. "If you touch him, he can get back into your body. And I _will not_ save you this time. I don't have enough power left for it." The archangel flicked his wrist, a silver blade extending to his hand from the sleeve of his coat, "I'll kill you instead. So don't make me have to do such a thing, all right?"

The Hunter's eyebrows furrowed, but he said nothing, standing rigidly still until Gabriel moved aside, knowing that he wouldn't have gotten much of an answer anyways. Sam stomped off again, and Gabriel followed, fingers iron tight around his sword. He'd meant what he said. If Lucifer tried to use Sam's body to escape, he'd kill him, both of them. There was no other way.

Ahead of him, Sam halted suddenly, shoulders stiffening in horror, chin pointed down as he stared at something just beneath the ice's surface. Gabriel drew up beside him and placed a hand against the small of the Hunter's back, wrapping his wounded left wing around him, "This is the circle of betrayal, Sammy. Did you really expect it to be empty?"

Just beneath the ice hands reached up in vain towards the surface, unmoving and frozen in time. The human's mouth twisted in pain, his nails halfway through a clawing motion. Gabriel crouched down, hand falling away from Sam to scrape some snow off the surface to get a better look. "Mordred," he whispered softly, eyes alight. "Would you believe I once sat at the same table as him?" _The Round Table,_ he thought smugly to himself.

Sam shook his head and looked out towards Lucifer's cage in the distance with glazed eyes. Shadows rippled across the surface of the lake from the point where they stood onwards, more souls trapped eternally in ice for their sins, no doubt. He swallowed thickly, waiting until Gabriel stood again, "If . . . If I'd said yes in Detroit that day, I'd be here, wouldn't I," he whispered hoarsely.

"Yes," Gabriel replied, arching a wing up over him again. "But you're not. You didn't let Dean down, you're not like my brother." He pushed the Hunter along, keeping his eyes trained ahead and forcing Sam to do the same. Though this was the innermost circle, it was far from the most morbid. But the fact that Sam, with a little more influence from Ruby, could have ended up here was enough to make the other shake, and Gabriel rested his hand soothingly on his back again.

Lucifer's screams of rage reached their ears long before they saw the devil himself. Sam pulled away from the archangel as they drew up beside The Cage, shoulders hunched and mouth set into a grim line. Gabriel hung back, eyes following the bars of ice around the entrapment. To each of the largest pillars was chained a man, wailing in fear and pain as Lucifer clawed at them, gnawing on their flesh only to have it regrow all over again. He recognized Judas and Cassius and Brutus easily, having been around to witness their sins with his own eyes. He turned from them and focused his gaze on Sam again, clenching his fingers around his blade.

Sam stared into the cage, watching with cold eyes as Lucifer, a form of flame and darkness, reached out towards him, screaming and roaring his fury for all of Hell to hear. Gabriel could not make out any coherent words, but he had no doubt that Lucifer was speaking promises to Sam, trying to tempt him into letting him in again. Judas struggled a little to Sam's right, Lucifer's clawed hands digging into his flesh, but Sam didn't so much as spare him a glance.

Behind him, Gabriel prayed. He hadn't prayed in hundreds and hundreds of years. But he did not dare draw close enough to pull Sam away from his brother, so he prayed that the Hunter would have the strength to do it himself. And then, to his horror, Sam began to lean towards the Morningstar, hazel-green eyes glazing over. The archangel heard a roar of fury pierce through the screams of the damned trapped against the cage, and he realized it was his own.

_No, not like this_, he thought desperately, _I let him have him once, but never again._ he lunged forward, wings spreading and arching forward to slice the air between Sam and Lucifer like a knife. His hands found Sam's shoulders, and he tugged him back with all the strength he had. His brother's hand remained outside the bars of The Cage, and Gabriel screamed in rage, freeing one hand from Sam, feeling the familiar weight of his sword settle against his palm instantly. It had been a millennia since he'd used it, not since the war of Heaven, and he swung it down without remorse towards the beckoning fingers of flame and darkness with a predatorily roar as Lucifer howled in pain.

"You will not touch him again!" Gabriel heard the words before he realized he was speaking them. One arm closed tight around Sam's chest, drawing the human back against him as he slowly stepped away from The Cage. "He is _mine_," he snarled, realizing with a start that for once in his life, he meant it. "He is _mine_ and you will not touch him!"

Sam slumped in his grip as he backpedaled away from Lucifer's prison, and he held him close, breath coming in short gasps. Lucifer's howls still echoed in his ears, even though the distance between them was rapidly widening, and he closed his eyes as if that could somehow make the sound disappear. A few thousand yards away from The Cage, Sam's eyes snapped wide open and he screamed.

Gabriel almost dropped him, nearly jumping out of his skin. The ice below was still shadowed with the bodies of those imprisoned for betrayal, and Sam slipped from his grip and down onto it, writhing and flailing as though he was on fire. Which, for all Gabriel knew, he very well could be in his own mind. The archangel calmly knelt down beside him, catching his wrists and straddling the Hunter, holding him down so he wouldn't hurt himself. He wished he had Grace to spare to ease whatever it was Lucifer had planted in the kid's mind, but with how far they still had to go, he couldn't risk it. Instead, he bit his lip and waited patiently, watching with unmoving honey-gold eyes as Sam battled with whatever sin Lucifer had given him.

He shoved two fingers into the other's mouth when Sam looked to be in danger of biting off his own tongue, and he winced in pain, blood trickling into the younger Winchester's mouth and down his chin. For a long moment as Sam's struggling started to slow, Gabriel wondered if angel blood would have an addicting affect on him. Hopefully not, he didn't have much to spare.

After a few more minutes, Sam lay eerily still, and if it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of his chest and stomach, Gabriel would have worried. Instead, he withdrew his hand and shook the blood off with a flick of his wrist, the snow becoming speckled with scarlet. Hooking his arms under Sam's he hauled the Hunter up into a sitting position, examining him carefully for permanent damages. Well, physical ones anyways. He knew very well that Sam had enough damage in his head for both of them, and Gabriel came with his own fair share as well. But those weren't things he could heal away, like injuries.

After what seemed like hours, Sam finally stirred from his death-like stillness. His hands immediately found Gabriel's shoulders, and he clung to them as though it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. His glassy eyes cleared as he shook his head over and over, the angel watching in relieved silence. "Thank you," he whispered hoarsely. "I don't know what you did, but thank you."

Gabriel nodded slowly, "What happened kid?"

"Dun know," Sam mumbled, sitting up as the Trickster slid off of him onto the ice. He placed a hand to his suddenly throbbing head with a groan. "It's like I was looking right at him, and suddenly I was standing with Dean. I was watching him die, back when we were in the hospital after the Impala got wrecked. And I couldn't save him." He shook his head, "All the memories of everything after that day just weren't there anymore, and I could hear Lucifer telling me he could save him for me, if I let him in. But I didn't k now it was Lucifer. It was just a voice."

"He took one of your worst memories and used it against you," Gabriel said darkly. "It's an easy trick, to trap someone in a fake reality based off of one fact from the past."

Sam stared at him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he realized that this person in front of him, this _Trickster_, had once done the exact same thing. Gabriel looked away, "Anyways, we have to get out of here. Can you stand?"

The Hunter placed his palms on the ice and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, swaying before Gabriel jumped up and straightened him out with firm hands. "Easy there, bucko. Can't have you passing out again, we really have too skedaddle. It's too dangerous to be so close to The Cage for so long."

"Yeah," Sam nodded with understanding, staggering slightly as he tried to walk forward. Darkness roiled at the back of his mind, leftover rage and grief from the altered memories Lucifer had thrust upon him. He pushed it down as he looked at Gabriel, trying to hold him up with that not so well hidden concern in his gaze. Yes, Gabriel had hurt him, scarred him for life probably with what he'd done, but he couldn't take his anger out on him. In the end, he'd been the one to ask for the Trickster's help, not the other way around. So he moved his feet as Gabriel led him slowly away from The Cage.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Gabriel watched the flames begin to flicker out of existence before he tossed another branch into it's depths, leaning away from the heat as it flared into life again. Beside him, Sam was curled into a nest of blankets on the ice, one of the angel's wings hanging over him like a roof as soft flakes of snow drifted down from above. He had never understood why there was weather in Hell, but he knew that it was never the pleasant kind. In a few hours, the snow would turn from a light blanketing to a full on blizzard, fierce winds and frostbite included in the package. He leaned over the fire with a sigh, once again wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

He'd felt Sam's spike of emotion near The Cage a few hours ago, angry and boiling just beneath the surface. It was the taint of the demon blood he'd willingly guzzled down before he let Lucifer into his body, and Gabriel couldn't do anything about it. He almost wished Sam had just punched him and gotten it over with.

A cold gust of air whipped up over the ice and he shuddered, hunching into himself and spreading his second wing on the side closest to the Hunter, sheltering him from it.

"_Humanity isn't beautiful, Aziraphale," Gabriel snorted, eyes narrowed in disgust. "It's foolish, broken, and contaminated with things like desire and want." he folded his arms over his chest, backing up from the younger angel with a roll of his eyes._

"_You've seen much of it, haven't you," Aziraphale said solemnly. "You've seen the darker side of it in your time as Loki."_

"_I __**am**__ Loki," Gabriel sneered. "There was never a real god by that name, only me. I took that guise long before I left for good."_

"_I know," the other smiled wisely. "You think me arrogant to your ways, brother. But I'm not. You may have taken up permanent residence after Joan of Arc's death, but you have been living among Earth's peoples from the moment Adam was created." He tilted his head to the side, studying Gabriel with a contemplating look, "You want to go to him, don't you, Gabriel."_

"_I don't know what you're talking about."_

_Aziraphale laughed, and Gabriel raised his eyebrow at the action, unused to it coming in any sincerity from other angels aside from himself. "The vessel, brother," he clarified with genuine amusement in his Grace-blue eyes, "You are worried for him, are you not?"_

_Gabriel sat down in the chair he'd been in before, falling heavily into it and slumping in it's reassuring presence. "Lucifer's already played a hand in tainting him," he admitted slowly. "His name is whispered among the demons even now."_

"_And you believe it to be too late?"_

"_No," the archangel snarled, "Of course not. But-" he stopped, eyes turning to the window, "I'm not an angel anymore, Aziraphale. I can pretend to be, but I'm not. I may still have my wings and my Grace, but I'm too sullied." He flexed his hand, clenching his fingers against his palm in frustration, "Too pagan. Too __**human**__."_

"_Aren't we both," Aziraphale sighed, bending to pick up the books Gabriel had thrown to the floor earlier. His fingers lingered on the old, musty tome for a minute longer than the others, before he lovingly closed it, caressing it's leather bound cover with a smile. "That's because humanity possesses what we were born without, what we have to learn for ourselves." He chuckled as Gabriel cocked his head lazily, confused. "Free will, Gabriel. You have it too, you know. I wonder if you were not the first of us to have it."_

"_Lucifer-" Gabriel started._

"_Is no more your brother anymore than any other demon. I know you cared for him greatly, Gabriel. But is choices caused his own downfall." Aziraphale shook his head sadly, "Brother, do not let yourself be the same by just standing idly by. If you want to see the vessel, then see him." He leaned back from where he was balanced on his heels on the floor, an odd sparkle in his eyes, "Give yourself time to get used to the idea, settle down somewhere and make mischief like you always do. He'll find you eventually. It's meant to happen."_

_Gabriel blinked, "Weren't you the one just going on and on about free will?"_

_Aziraphale smirked, "It is your free will. But whether or not you go to him now, or never, he will find you. Your souls are remarkably the same."_

"_Like you and that demon?" Gabriel said sarcastically. His gaze roamed over the empty shop with a vague look of curiosity, "Where is he, by the way?"_

"_Busy preparing to play his own part in destiny," Aziraphale said calmly, restacking the books. "He's making connections and holing up in a very hidden, but noticeable place in America. He won't tell me where." He laughed softly, "Crowley can take care of himself, and so can I. He'll come back when he's bored again."_

"_You love him, don't you," Gabriel said coldly._

"_I wouldn't exactly say that, I would never bind him with such a thing. He's free to see whoever he wants, and has had many human lovers of both sexes through the millions of years we've been alive." The younger angel looked thoughtful, leaning against the desk. "But we've been through much together, him and I. I would be lost without him."_

"_Isn't that love?" Gabriel raised his eyebrow and frowned._

"_Hardly," Aziraphale made a face, "He's letting his human body age for convenience at the moment. And I'll tell you now there is not one thing about that I love." He made a face that caused Gabriel to snicker. "Angels are supposed to be incapable of love, Gabriel."_

"_Yes-"_

"_Incapable of love for things our Father did not create," Aziraphale corrected himself, studying his nails, "Which includes demons. Humans, however, are the one thing we are told to love more than God."_

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

You shouldn't need to have read the book Good Omens to understand Aziraphale. He's an angel that isn't a dick, and is "friends" with Crowley. And that's that, really. For those of you who really didn't know, the Crowley of SPN was named after the demon in this novel. Every SPN fan should read it, there's lots of SPN things that were totally inspired by it, it's very fun.

Anywho, I included Aziraphale in this fic because he reminded me of a Cass and Gabe both when I read the book, and I felt as though he'd be the perfect person to give Gabriel some advice. Although their exchanges take place six years before the first Trickster episode, Gabriel recalls them now because he didn't realize the truth in his brother's words until later. Silly Gabe. Next chapter we'll leave this ring (finally) and run into Bela. O 3o

I've started working on the sequel already. I'm terrible. But I was so jazzed up after reading all the new Bingo fics and the oil spill donation ones. :] it's terrible of me to love those charities, isn't it. But I get new fics cause of them, even though I'm too poor to donate myself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Crossing The Inferno: Sins Inside Us**

Sam stared up at the giant Antaeus with something akin to pure awe. He'd heard tales of Hunters long before his time witnessing creatures such as this, but he never thought them to be more than tales. Just as he'd once thought vampires to be. And yet, here before him was Gabriel talking to a giant like they were old friends, which for all he knew they very well could have been. The archangel kept his voice low and amused, calming as though he was afraid the giant would hurt them, although to Sam there seemed to be no danger of it. The giant spoke a language the Hunter wasn't familiar with, one that Gabriel however had no trouble conversing in.

They talked for a long while before the giant finally looked over at Sam and crouched down on the frozen ground at the edge of the Ninth Circle, extending out a hand the size of a bus towards him. Gabriel flashed him a grin that made Sam's heart stop for a brief second, but he ignored the sensation by giving the other an incredulous look. The archangel merely continued to smile, "Hop on, kiddo. Antaeus here has agreed to give us a ride." He gestured to the towering mountain of broken stones that encircled the lake.

"Uh," Sam stared at the offered hand for a long moment before he felt Gabriel's palms against his back, shoving him up onto it before he followed with a light flutter of his wings. The human snorted in annoyance, raising an eyebrow at the angel with a frown.

"We don't have all day, Sammy," Gabriel said with a roll of his eyes, "It's already been three weeks since you fell down here. Can't have you wasting any more days just standing there." He waved a hand in the air towards the giant, and Antaeus stood once more.

Sam nodded mutely, eyes focusing on the giant's massive palm before he spoke, "Are the other circles going to take just as long?" he asked softly, the burn marks on his back itching as he said the words.

Gabriel gave him a sad, contemplating look, "Longer," he said finally. "This is the smallest circle, bucko. Reserved for only the worst. The other circles are vast, though they do not possess a center like this one." He tilted his head to the side, thinking of a better way to describe it, "It's like crossing entire continents, unfortunately. And it's not going to be as pretty and calm as this place was. Lucifer or not, this circle was the easiest. It's sinners are trapped in the ice. The same can not be said of the others."

The Hunter bit his lip, trying to remember if he'd ever read Dante's inferno beyond the sometimes quick skim for info from it at Bobby's. "It'll be dangerous then?"

The archangel gave him a look that clearly said, _"Hellooooo, we're in Hell?"_ though he didn't say it out loud. All the same, Sam snickered. Gabriel raised a confused eyebrow, but said nothing, unfolding his wings a bit as the giant stopped moving, his hand leveling out against the top of the mountain of stones. "I can fly us from here, thanks Antaeus," he smiled, motioning for Sam to step off the waiting hand and onto firmer ground.

Sam stared as Gabriel stretched his arms over his head and experimentally stretched his wings out to their full span, dark feathers flaring up and out. "Does it hurt?" he whispered, watching as the makeshift bandages fell from the angel's upper left wing to the boulders below.

"It's pretty much healed," Gabriel promised with a reassuring smile, "now come here so we can leave this god forsaken place."

"But the demon's will find us if you fly," Sam began, confused.

Gabriel laughed, "Not right now they won't," he waved over his shoulder at the giant still standing behind them. "They're scared shitless of Antaeus. Even if they sense me, they won't dare come into this side of the Ninth Circle, our buddy here told me so." He flapped his dark feathered wings impatiently, "Now hurry up, or I'll just have to toss you down there like a sack of potatoes. Which I will enjoy doing."

Sam rolled his eyes, knowing there was no malice behind the threat, and that even if there was, Gabriel wouldn't really do it. Hesitantly, he stepped towards the archangel, shivering as Gabriel wrapped his arms around him. "Deep breaths, Sammy," Gabriel smirked, "I'm not going to bite." Sam squeezed his eyes shut with as gasp as the ground suddenly decided to abandon them, Gabriel pumping his wings and lifting them into the air. Before he could even contemplate opening them to take a look around, his feet touch solid earth again.

"That was-"

"Fast? Not really," Gabriel looked up at the slopes of stone towering behind them with a disappointed frown, "I could have gotten us down here in a millisecond if I'd had more power. Whatever," he waved a bored hand in front of his face, as though it didn't really matter, but Sam could tell that it did. "Now let's hurry our buts out of here."

The Hunter nodded , taking a step forward towards where the archangel was standing not too far away. His movements immediately faltered however as he a spike of pain flare up through his back and out through his chest. His mouth forming into a silent _Oh_ he turned his gaze down to a spot just below his sternum, where a blade glistening with his blood protruded like an extra limb. "Gabe-" he started, undecided between a call for help or a warning before the world seemed to tilt around him. This had happened before, he remembered in the hazy unclear reaches of his mind. But it had hurt less then, it had definitely hurt less.

Faintly, he could hear Gabriel's scream of _"No!" _echoingDean's almost four years ago. His knees hit the ground before he realized he'd fallen, and his fingers briefly rising to touch the tip of the blade extending from his chest before his hand was yanked forcefully away. To his surprise, the fingers gripping his own were smaller and thinner than he expected Gabriel's to be, and he blinked in confusion. _Not Gabriel_, he thought through the clouds forming in his mind. The angel was leaning over him now, touching his face with worried, hesitant hands while yelling at someone just out of Sam's line of sight. He tried to smile reassuringly, but he just couldn't seem to make his body obey and he caught a flash of anguished honey eyes before he blacked out.

Gabriel snarled in rage, clutching Sam's suddenly limp body to him so close that the edge of the knife pricked at his own skin. "What have you _done_?" he hissed at the person standing a few paces away.

The woman swept her long brown hair back from her demon black eyes with a tired sigh, "Helped you," she said, voice heavily accented with British sarcasm.

"Your view of helping is extremely screwed, "Gabriel snapped. "And I'd start running if I were you, because as soon as I heal Sam, your ass is as good as dead."

"That would be a terrible waste of Grace for you though, wouldn't it. Trying to kill a demon in their natural habitat," she curled her nails against her palm, examining them with a bored look. "And yes, love, this is helping, whether you like it or not. Some higher ups are just pining for Sam's death. Which is why I suggest you make it seem like I did my job correctly, or they'll be forced to start sending out demons who might actually want him dead." She tilted her head in a patient way that strangely reminded The Trickster of Castiel.

"You didn't have to stab him," he began irritably, pushing the idea of immediate demon death to the back of his mind for a moment.

"They're watching," she warned coolly, raising an eyebrow as Gabriel flared his wings defensively. "You are the one right? The one that can create illusions? It would be best if we pretended to get this small talk over with and have you fake my death as well now, make it believable," she winked, taking half a step back.

Gabriel muttered a curse under his breath mixed in with an chiding to himself on his own foolish gullibility before he snapped his fingers, wreathing the small area in a blanket of dreamlike illusion. To any outsider, it would now look as though Gabriel had lunged at the demon and smote her into a pile of ashes before trying and failing to save Sam. Gabriel lovingly imagined it all and projected it as he pleased, including much swearing and angsty tears as he could muster. It must have looked pretty dramatic if he said so himself.

Finishing up the image, he turned back to Sam without giving the demon so much as a second glance, drawing the knife from his back with careful hands. If she had removed it earlier, Sam would have probably already died from blood loss. As it was though, the shock might still be enough if Gabriel didn't work quickly. He lay is palms flat over the gapping wound on Sam's back, channeling his Grace into it and watching the human's chest as the flow of crimson slowly ebbed away into nothing, the skin sliding back together as though it had never been broken. He let himself relax a moment, cradling the Hunter against his chest and listening to the calming evening of his breathing before he turned furious eyes to the demon once more.

"I suggest you either get out of my sight or explain before I really do kill you," he growled warningly.

The demon held up her hands in front of her chest in surrender, "It was necessary, believe me or I would have never done it."

"You're a demon."

"In body but not in mind," she corrected smoothly. "Not all of us choose to be here by way of sin, angel." Cocking her head in that almost Castiel-like way again, she smiled slightly, "My name was Bela Talbot, a long time ago. Sam and I . . . well, we were acquainted, I suppose. But it didn't end well."

"Hence," he waved a hand at her, ignoring the annoyed look he received for the gesture.

"For the most part, yes," she agreed after a moment. "But it was no fault of his, exactly."

Sam's breath hitched suddenly, and Gabriel held him closer, as if that would somehow shield him from the demon before them. "Even so, it doesn't explain the stabbing," he ground out as evenly as possible.

Bela sighed in exasperation, "Have you not yet realized you're in _Hell_? Why do you think there are no other angels down here? They've been eliminated. As have anything else that is still living. My . . . _Boss_," she spat out the word like one would were they speaking of a bug they'd just stepped on, "Was a good friend of my deal holder, Lilith. He wants Sam dead. I'm providing you with a good few years of making him think he succeeded in that area."

"You want to help us," Gabriel said slowly, testing out the words.

"Where I stand is my business alone," Bela replied. "All I want is to be rid of this place. I've been here a long time, angel. And while my wish may have been selfish as all wishes are, I will not say that it wasn't _right_, I have no regrets of making it. I just want out." She pointed at Sam with an insistent finger, "And whether that means hurting him, saving him, or both, I'm going to do it."

"Then you'd do well to stay back," the archangel muttered. "Because all you've done so far is try to kill him. While it may have been clearly half-assed and lacking any sincerity, that doesn't mean I'm going to let you linger anywhere near us. At least not yet."

"You wound me," she mocked.

"You _hurt _him," Gabriel said lowly, his tone taking on the same protectiveness it had born when he'd pulled the Hunter away from Lucifer's cage. "Which mean's that while I'll allow you to live, for now, you do not have my trust. Now go, before I change my mind about sparing you."

Bela looked mildly amused by is speech, the opposite effect he'd been going for, "You're a lot like him, you know." She gestured to Sam, "I can see why it was you chosen to guard him during his time down here."

And with that she was gone, vanished like a leaf on the wind. Gabriel blinked at the suddenly empty space before he clutched Sam to him tighter, rocking back on his heels with a worried plea of _"Sammy, come on Sammy, Sammy, please," _that he repeated over and over, waiting as the hours wound away and the Hunter's heartbeat swelled back to normalcy in his ears. After what seemed like years, Sam's eyes fluttered open with a startled gasp that made Gabriel choke down a bark of relieved laughter.

"What happened?" he asked groggily, and as he spoke Gabriel felt a prickle along his spine like someone was watching the space he was occupying, though his illusion was still securely in place. Terrible realization hit him, _that bitch had been right_, before he swiveled his gaze around, noticing a dark figure hovering on the edge of his vision not far away. Whatever it was, it was damned powerful, equal on the same level as Lilith and Crowley if he said so himself. Swallowing thickly, knowing that even the most powerful of demons could not x-ray through his illusions, he turned back to Sam.

"S'nothing. But we gotta move, babe, or some bad shit is gonna go down, all right?" He helped Sam to his feet, wincing as the human groaned in pain, the newly reformed muscles in his back aching.

"I'm a bad shit magnet," Sam said dazedly. "And don't call me _babe_. Being called a kid is better than being called a girl," he huffed indignantly, swaying slightly as Gabriel placed an arm around his waist to hold him up.

"But you're too tall for a kid, and too pretty faced for a man," Gabriel shot back, watching the figure out of the corners of his eyes as he started to hustle Sam away from the scene. "And no, that was not a compliment."

"You called me pretty," Sam slurred in amusement, Gabriel beginning to realize that the human might just be a _little_ drunk off of his Grace.

"Pretty fucked up," The Trickster amended for him, "Now can you please remember how to walk in a straight line without tripping over yourself. We're trying to be inconspicuous here, kid."

Sam made a disappointed face, "Reduced to _kid_ again. Sadness."

"I think you need a nap," Gabriel said dryly.

"Napping is for kids."

"Exactly."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Sam stared blankly into the fire Gabriel had constructed for that night, if one could even call it night. The light of Hell remained that eerie, dimly lit glow that came at the last second of dusk on earth, though there was no sun to rise or fall. he sighed, stretching his arms behind him and placing his hands on the ground, wincing at the pulling pain in his back, reminding him that Gabriel still had not explained what had happened. "Gabe," he began, testing out the shortening of the angel's name.

Gabriel took a moment to look up, his eyebrow raised characteristically, "That's _Gabriel_ to you."

"Gabe," Sam insisted again, smirking broadly. "It suits you. Gabriel is too . . . Nobel sounding." He grinned when the angel pretended to look offended, "If you get to call me Sammy, I get to call you Gabe. Comprende?"

"I have never called you Sammy," Gabriel snorted in denial.

Sam cocked his head, letting his chin rest on his knees, "Yes you have. I heard you, a couple hours ago when I was passed out." He blinked as Gabriel looked pointedly away at this statement, as though he was embarrassed. "But that's not the point, at the moment. What happened back there?"

The archangel turned towards him again with a frown, choosing his words carefully, "What can you tell me about a woman named Bela Talbot?" The Hunter looked mildly surprised at this question, "Bela?" he whispered, confused. "Bela died almost four years ago. She used to hang around Dean and I every so often, she gave us shit all the time, and took our stuff. It was because of her we didn't have the colt for so long. We found out she made a contract with a crossroads demon and we . . ." He turned his gaze to the ground, and Gabriel inhaled as he caught the flash of guilt in his eyes, "We didn't help her. We let her die. It was Dean's choice, he kept saying that it was too little too late. And I know he was right but . . ." Sam shook his head, "I was better at forgetting about those things than he was. And I'm not sure if he ever forgave himself for leaving her to get torn apart by the Hellhounds. It's not a death he would wish on anyone."

Gabriel nodded in sudden understanding, "Dean had a thing for her then, did he?"

"I think we both did," Sam laughed softly, unaware of the spark of annoyance in the other's gaze as he said this. "But why are you bringing up Bela? I wasn't aware you two had ever met."

"We have as of a few hours ago," Gabriel amended. "She was the one that stabbed you, Sam." He rolled his eyes, "And while I really wanted to kill her for it right then and there, I get the feeling it did more good than harm in the end. There's . . ." He drew off, stretching his senses out as far as possible, just barely catching a hint of that same power at the edge of his awareness, "There's something out there. Something bad. I can take him, if he dares get close, probably. But if he sneaks up on us I'm not sure I'll be able to with you nearby. It'd be too risky." He sighed, rolling his shoulders and flexing his wings, folding them against his back comfortably. "But for awhile, he thinks you're dead because of that Bela girl. We have some time to try and distance ourselves from this place."

Sam stared at him for a long moment, watching as Gabriel materialized a candy bar into existence, unwrapping it and taking a bite. "Bela is a demon," he said slowly.

"Yes," Gabriel replied nonchalantly, "That's what happens when you make a deal, Sammy, whether your intentions were pure or not."

The Hunter smiled, "See you did call me Sammy."

"That's all you got out of all that? It was a slip of the tongue," Gabriel drawled, slightly annoyed at Sam's persistence. He let his eyes follow the other as Sam lay down beside the fire, watching it's dance of orange and gold with a glazed look. Slowly, hesitantly, Gabriel lay down beside him, propping his chin on his hand. "Something on your mind?"

Sam turned his head and blinked owlishly up at him for a long moment before he spoke. "I miss Dean," he said finally.

Gabriel tried really hard not to roll his eyes at this admission. "Right," he said, "I know, that much was pretty obvious. Anything else you'd like to add to that?"

"I . . ." Sam stared up at him, reaching to touch his shoulder lightly, "I'm glad you're here. I would have given up a long time ago if you weren't."

"Sam-"

"I would have," Sam insisted, clenching his fingers into the fabric covering Gabriel's shoulder. "I always believed you'd help us, and here you are. I . . . I believed."

"I know," Gabriel whispered. "I heard you praying." He smiled when Sam looked astonished, "If you say my name, wherever I am, I can hear it, Sam. Even if it's only in your head." He placed his other hand on the Hunter's chest, splaying his fingers out, "Remember that. If you call me, I will always come running. All right?"

"Okay," Sam whispered, nodding slightly. His heart hammered in his chest and he felt his face heat as he realized how close they suddenly were. It would be so easy to just lean up those last few inches and-

Gabriel sat up at that moment, looking flustered all of a sudden. Sam lay back down all the way, eyes narrowing in confusion as Gabriel looked away. "Right well, better get some sleep there bucko," the archangel muttered. "Long day ahead."

"Yeah," Sam mumbled, shaking his head to clear it of whatever the hell it was he'd been thinking of earlier. Being down here must be getting to him, he decided with a sigh.

Gabriel waited until Sam's breathing evened into the steady, slow rise and fall of sleep before he let his head fall to his knees, drawing in on himself with a growl of frustration. "This is _not _good," he groaned. "This is _really_ not good."

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

D: Dun dun duuuuhhhh . . . Angst and another torturous almost kiss. There were a coupla "Damn!" exclamations there from a few of you, weren't there. Lol. I'm sorry, it's my job to be evil like that. B] and I'm sorry there was more whumped Sammy goin on over there, Gamble and I have similar minds.

Some more Bela next chapter, as well as a trek through the eighth ring. I'm thinking two or three chapters a ring from here on out, which means a really long fic. D: I'll try to get it all done. I'm averaging a chapter a day or so here at home, if I don't work on anything else. I'll probably get another done after work today, so yay.

Anywho . . . Anyone see that Jensen/Misha action at Comicon? Love it. Quit makin me fangirl-die, Misha you evil fiend. I'll never make it till S6 if yah keep doing that. O 3o


	7. Chapter 7

**Crossing The Inferno: When My Angel Calls Me**

*Recently I got asked why I write Castiel's nickname as Cass instead of the more commonly used Cas. This is because Cass with two S's is the OFFICIAL spelling as seen on the original scripts and outlines by Kripke. It's Cass with two S's, thank you very much. Now onwards with the chapter*

Gabriel did not like Hell, of that he was certain above all else. But he had to admit that staring out over it's landscape, watching flames spike up in the distance, too far away to hear the screams of the damned, was rather peaceful. Well, as peaceful as peaceful could get in a place like this. Rolling his shoulders and extending his wings out behind them to their full length, he let his legs dangle out over the ledge he was perched on swinging them back and forth with glazed eyes. Some ten or so feet below and behind him, he could make out the light mumbles and snuffles of Sam snoring. While at first the human had slept as he had on earth, waking every few hours ready to travel again, hours of rest were now beginning to lapse into days. So far Gabriel only counted somewhere around 30 hours of sleep as the maximum, but that didn't mean it wouldn't change.

Sam's body was wearing down. He could feel it if he stretched his Grace over to the Hunter and just barely touched him. The pressures of Hell were not meant for the living. They were running out of time, and they still had so far to go.

The archangel nearly jumped out of his skin as a hand lightly touched his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts. His honey-gold eyes raked up the demon's body, a frown crossing his face before he allowed himself to relax, a sigh escaping him. "Bela," he greeted sourly.

"Angels don't sleep, hmm?" she smiled, looking more amused than Gabriel liked.

"We can rest, but we do not sleep," he replied, watching with a narrowed gaze as she sat down beside him. "Heard anything about your boss?"

Bela tilted her head to the side, studying him with a lazy stare, "Can't you sense him? He's never far away."

Gabriel glanced over his shoulder in the general direction the presence he'd felt before pulsed from, "You think me a fool?" he hissed. "I can feel his eyes on us every minute. I thought you said he'd leave if he thought Sam to be dead."

"I said he wouldn't come after you himself," Bela corrected sternly. "But an archangel fallen into Hell must be watched, wouldn't you agree? I think he wants to see how far you'll get." She shrugged nonchalantly, as though it hardly mattered. Slowly, she turned her gaze to Sam, eyes clouding as she looked down at him from the precipice they resided on. "He won't make it," she whispered. "It's too far."

The archangel tensed, "Yes he will," he growled. "If it's the last thing I ever do, I will make sure he gets out of this god forsaken place."

She laughed quietly, shaking her head, "God forsaken is exactly what it is." Her expression sobering again, Bela turned demon black eyes to him once more, "Don't say such things so lightly, angel. It might just really be the last thing you ever do." She waved a hand out over the expanse on the horizon Gabriel had been looking at previously, "It will take years to reach the gate. Many, many years. I've crossed Hell twice in my time here, and twice only. That should give you a rough estimate of just how long it will take you."

"He'll make it," Gabriel insisted, though his voice lowered a pitch, suddenly unsure as he stared out over Hell's vast depths.

"Not on human will alone," Bela said softly. "His body will age and die before you even get halfway, angel. I heard you near Lucifer's Cage, you called him yours. Did you mean it?"

Gabriel looked pointedly away, closing his eyes. This was not the first time he'd been asked such a thing about the human called Sam Winchester.

_Aziraphale leaned out the third floor window of the deceased professor's office, smiling broadly as he caught sight of the pair of young men making their way towards an old, but very nicely kept black Chevy Impala. "So that's him, is it? The vessel? He's quite the catch, I must say."_

"_Az!" Gabriel snapped, looking annoyed. _

"_Oh don't get all uptight, I didn't mean anything by it." He swept his long, tied back blond hair over his shoulder with a fond smirk, "After all, he's not mine to take. You've been waiting almost six years, haven't you, Gabriel."_

_Gabriel snorted, staring down at the car as it rumbled to life and began to drive away. Absently, he began to pick at the collar of his navy-blue janitor uniform, watching the Impala vanish over the hill leading down to the college. Yes, he'd been waiting, it wasn't a lie. He had bided his time and waited, playing meaningless pranks on the thickheaded and the arrogant on the college grounds, hoping that the Winchesters would someday pick up his trail. And so they had. "They're going to come around again tomorrow, I'm sure. Once they figure out that the professor took his swan dive from this room." He shrugged, trying not to look as though he was anticipating the encounter, but Aziraphale only smiled knowingly. Father, his brother was such a prat._

"_And what will you say to him, brother?" Aziraphale asked calmly. _

"_Nothing," Gabriel whispered. "What am I supposed to say? 'Yes, hello, I'm Gabriel the archangel and I'm very pleased to meet you, future vessel of Lucifer.'" He rolled his eyes, stepping back from the window and heaving a sigh. His eyelids fluttered closed and he tucked his chin against his collarbone, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "You don't understand, Aziraphale. I . . ." He flexed his fingers, curling them into the fabric of that damned itchy uniform, "I can still remember how it felt to hold him, the day he was born. He was so warm and small and I . . . I knew instantly what he would become. I had never considered my place as God's Messenger to be a curse until that moment." He shook his head biting his lip as he caught his brother's sympathetic gaze on him, "I can't do __**anything**__ for him."_

_Aziraphale smiled, the expression not quite reaching his eyes, "For now, I think it would be enough to simply stay as you are, Gabriel. Challenge him, test how far down his path as Lucifer's chosen he is. Get to know this vessel, and maybe the answer of what he needs of you will become clear all on it's own."_

_At this, a small smirk crossed Gabriel's features, "You want me to continue playing The Trickster?"_

"_It is what you do best."_

_So he'd done just that. It would be a lie to say he wasn't nearly bursting out of his skin when Sam first approached him, Michael's vessel at his side. He readily agreed to show them up to the room the professor had occupied before he'd given him some personal divine judgment. Sam played the part of the innocent electrician a little too well if Gabriel said so himself, however._

"_So how long have you been working here?" Sam asked as he followed The Trickster up the stairs, eyes on him in a way that made Gabriel's spine crawl and his wings shift in unease from their space hidden between dimensions. _

"_I've been, uh, mopping this floor for six years or so now," he said offhandedly, opening the door to the now empty office and motioning for them to step inside. His eyes caught the glint of metal as Sam withdrew his EMF reader out from his coat, and the angel placed a look of oblivious curiosity on his face, "What's that for?"_

"_Um, finding wires in the wall," Sam muttered, looking away quickly as though he was afraid Gabriel would recognize the device. Which he did, but he wasn't stupid enough to say anything about it._

"_Don't know why you're wiring up this place though," he said, trying his best to paint a picture of boredom on his features as he watched Sam scan the walls diligently as though he really was looking for wires. It was amazing to Gabriel how much he'd grown. Not just physically, because that much was blatantly obvious. But emotionally as well. He'd checked in once or twice when the boys had first started hunting again a year and a half ago. Sam's eyes were clear again, free of the grief and anger that had clouded them for months. _

"_Why's that?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. Gabriel tried his best not to smirk at this. As if he didn't know. Cute. Mentally he smacked himself, biting the inside of his cheek for thinking such a thing. _

"_The professor's dead," he said mysteriously, "Jumped out that window right there," he motioned towards it, eyes following the way the curtains fluttered away from the glass just so. _

"_Oh yeah?" Gabriel chewed forcefully on the inside of his cheek as Sam turned those falsely innocent hazel-green eyes on him. Damn. He'd heard of the famous Puppy-Look but this was insane. "Did you see it?"_

_The Trickster snorted, "I was the one that found him."_

_At this, Sam's expression changed from childlike-curiosity to genuinely intrigued, "Did you see him go into the office too?"_

_He shrugged, "Yeah, I did. I saw him go into the office with __**someone**__. It wasn't the first time it had happened, so I didn't think anything of it. I told the police about her, but I guess it was a dead end." Of course it was, it wouldn't be much of an illusion if there was solid evidence to leave behind. Not unless he left it purposefully. _

_Sam tilted his head to the side, staring at him for a long moment before he spoke again, "So this building only has four floors, right? So there wouldn't be a room 669?"_

"_No," the archangel replied smoothly, unable to keep the slight smile from his face. The fools had bought his fake story he'd planted a few years back. "Why do you ask?"_

"_Er, no reason," Sam mumbled, looking mildly embarrassed._

"_You plan to let them kill you," Aziraphale said slowly, as though he'd misheard his brother's intentions._

"_I plan to let them __**think**__ they killed me," Gabriel corrected with a frown, noticing the blonde's unease. "It'll give me time to relocate, maybe follow them for a bit."_

_Aziraphale cocked his head, blinking into the wind from his position on the windowsill of the deceased's office. "You are truly worried about that vessel, aren't you."_

_The archangel narrowed his eyes, "I really couldn't care less, actually."_

"_You sensed it, didn't you? What Azazel had done to that child," Aziraphale started, pausing as confusion entered Gabriel's gaze as he spoke, "You did not? Gabriel, just how distracted were you back there?"_

"_I wasn't-" Gabriel started, offended that Aziraphale would think such of him._

_The younger angel raised an eyebrow and smirked, "You weren't checking out Sam Winchester's ass?"_

"_I-uh . . ." The Trickster folded his arms over his chest with an annoyed scowl, but didn't deny it. Which only made Aziraphale laugh._

"_I don't blame you, dear brother," Aziraphale smiled. "But really, you did not realize at all what has already happened to the vessel? I suggest you take a closer look at him, and I'm not talking about his ass, you pervert." He chuckled as Gabriel growled defensively. _

_The Trickster led the way up the stairs from the janitor's locker room with slow steps. Sometimes he really loved his guise as the Norwegian god Loki, it was great for stress relief. One of the many things he'd done the night before, actually. He could feel Sam's presence behind him as the boys followed him up the stairs, but he dared not take a moment to turn and examine him too closely. "Sorry I'm dragging today boys, I had a long night." He grabbed hold of the banister and swiveled around so that his chin rested on it and he was able to look down at Sam, still on the flight a few inches lower. "Lotsa sex," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows just so and watching with amusement as the young man blushed profusely, "If you know what I mean."_

"_Hard not to," Dean grumbled, and Gabriel merely smirked. _

_In those ten seconds he'd faced the youngest Winchester he'd seen what Aziraphale had been referring to, and that was all he needed. Behind the hazel-green of Sam's eyes roiled a spark of inky black, too hidden for mortal eyes to catch, but just enough for Gabriel to take note of. The child had drunken demon blood, though whether it was by force or his own free will, Gabriel couldn't tell. Aziraphale had suggested that the demon Azazel had had a hand in it however._

_Sam, still looking noticeably flustered, began to back away, muttering something like, "Oh, I forgot, um, something. In the car. Yeah, in the car. Be right back." Gabriel tilted his head and nodded, pointedly leading Dean farther up the stairs to allow Sam to make his fake retreat. _

_The Impala rumbled off into the distance, it's engine loud and clear from Gabriel's position on the roof of Carter Hall. He bit into his candy bar and sighed, leaning back to catch sight of Aziraphale standing over him. "That is the __**least**__ subtle car on the face of the planet, you know," he said offhandedly._

"_That it is," Aziraphale nodded, taking up a seat next to him and stretching out his wings visibly in the moonlight. Unlike Gabriel's, they were a pure white, tinted on the edges with silver gray. "Have you seen what is to become of them in the near future, brother?" At this, Gabriel looked away, staring down at the ground far below them with a small shake of his head. This was answer enough. Aziraphale sighed deeply, "He will die within the year, Gabriel. And yet you won't lift a finger."_

"_If he dies then he will never become Lucifer's vessel," Gabriel replied, his throat tightening around the words. "It is a better fate."_

"_If that is what you truly believe then you are more of a fool than I took you for," Aziraphale said lowly, his eyes narrowing. "You act as though he is yours, and yet you do not follow through as though you mean it. You are a fool, Gabriel." He snarled in frustration as the archangel didn't reply, "Very well. You have no more use for me then, brother. I take my leave." And with that, the angel was gone. Gabriel stared at the empty space for a long moment before he turned his gaze outwards once more, refusing to change his belief that there was nothing more he could do._

Trying not to smile, Gabriel glanced at her with glazed eyes, remembering his brother with something akin to fondness. "You're very astute. You remind me very much of someone I once knew." He shook his head, stretching his arms above him with a groan at his stiff muscles. "You ask if I think him to be mine," he said softly, repeating the question as Bela nodded. "I will have to say that I don't."

Bela frowned, "But at Lucifer's Cage-"

"I know what I said, and I meant it, I truly did. But one can not own another without being owned in return." He flexed his hand, fingers curling into his palm, "I have not marked him."

The demon blinked in recognition, "It has to be a mutual agreement for your handprint to burn his skin, doesn't it? I've seen it before." She nodded at Gabriel's look of surprise, "Did you think I was blind enough not to see when that angel came for Dean? His light shone through all of Hell like a beacon. I was the one . . ." She paused, fidgeting, "The reason I was under my master's orders to kill Sam Winchester a few days ago was because I bargained for my freedom from the rack by saying I would commit the deed. Even though I've already become a demon I was chained and beaten because I gave directions to Dean's angel."

Gabriel gaped at her, surprised, "You really are a strange one, aren't you. Risking your life for these airheads."

"Did you not die doing the same?" she countered coolly.

"Touché," he smirked in reply. Behind them, Sam's snoring started and stopped, the human rolling over as he started to stir from his sleep. "Whatever you came here to say you better get on with it," Gabriel prompted in a whisper. "I still don't want you anywhere around him."

Bela looked mildly amused, but complied, glancing at Sam with an even gaze, "You and I both know that he will age and die before you complete this journey, angel. And I think you know what you have to do to save him. Do not let more than a year pass before you make your decision. I will do my best to lead my master away from you." She pointed out towards the horizon, "The direction you should go will follow the fissure that crosses the eighth ring. Do not linger in this place much longer."

Gabriel blinked and found himself to once again be alone on his perch. He swore, sometimes he was the only supernatural being who didn't do things like that just to be immensely annoying. Behind him, Sam sat up, looking around before he noticed Gabriel staring down at him. Stretching, he stood up and scaled the rock, heaving himself up beside the angel with a grunt. "How long have I been asleep?" he asked.

_Thirty-two hours_. "Awhile," Gabriel said ambiguously. Sam didn't need to know that, not yet. Just as he didn't need to know too much about Bela's interference. "Now, shirt off. I need to have a look at that map." He smirked when Sam gave him an incredulous look before complying, pulling his first shirt up over his head and quickly followed by a second. The archangel reached out a hand, tracing the scar of the first circle they'd passed through and the path line going straight through it. Sam tensed under his fingertips, but he didn't move away.

A snaking line pulsed out away from the path they'd followed before, twisting it's way through the eighth ring towards it's edge with no particular pattern. Gabriel let his gaze flick out over the landscape, his eyes catching the dark smudge on the horizon where Bela had indicated a fissure. Once again, the demon had been right. Sighing, the angel let his head fall to Sam's shoulder, listening to the human's breath hitch before he spoke, "This isn't going to be easy," he whispered.

"I never thought it would be," Sam said slowly, his voice still slurred a bit from sleep. "Gabe, what's wrong?" He inhaled sharply as the archangel's arms suddenly wrapped around him, Gabriel's palms resting on his stomach. "Gabe-"

"I won't let you die," the archangel hissed between his teeth. "I'm done standing by and watching. I won't let you die again. You're going to get out and you're going to see your brother again no matter what I have to do to make it happen."

"Gabriel you're acting strange," Sam started, unsure of what to say.

"M'sorry," Gabriel murmured against the human's back. "But just let me . . . For a moment, all right? Just a second."

"Then you'll go back to being the cheeky sarcastic ass you usually are?" Sam inquired innocently.

"Hardy-har-har," Gabriel growled. "Yes. I will. So don't get used to this." He tightened his arms around the other and closed his eyes. Just for a moment. It would be okay for him to give in for just a moment.

Sam let his hands fall to cover Gabriel's, gripping them tight in reassurance.

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

Rewatched Tall Tales to make this chapter. It amused me very much that Gabriel looked directly at Sam when he said, "Lotsa sex!" like that. Did anyone else notice their weird flirtyness in the office in the first scene they're in together? O_O

Anywho . . . Finally figured out what I'm going to do with Bela and Percy. I just have to do a little bit of research on hellhounds first before I proceed with it. And arrghhh . . I'm missing the replay of Dark Side of the Moon cause of work tomorrow. Sadness and tears. ASH! ;_; wanna see it. I hate work. But work gives me money for con. So . . .

Next chapter we cross the eighth ring, and I think that there might be a slight time skip. But I haven't decided yet.

For anyone who's really trying to figure out the plot of this thing before it actually happens, most of my plot comes from songs. Here are your hints:

**What If by Safetysuit **- Gabriel's song to Sam, basically. The first main part is the key.

**I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin **- first part only again, second part has to do with Castiel and the Sequel in my head, so yeah.

**Conviction by Groove Addicts **- the sing that made me realize exactly what I had to do with Bela in a few chapters.

Anywho, have to go take a drivers test and then come back and write ANOTHER chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Crossing The Inferno: A Test Of Faith**

Most days they walked together in silence, shoulder to shoulder with Gabriel's massive wings arching up over Sam's head to protect him from the spits of fire that occasionally rained down from the endless cavern high overhead. There was no need for words as they followed the deep crack in the ground through the eighth ring. What could they say, anyways_? "Oh, hey, Sam, look at that soul over there, he's suffering from some nasty disease. Oh, look, he just projectile vomited everywhere. Fun." _No, there was nothing to say.

Gabriel tried not to let his eyes focus on anything in particular for longer than a heartbeat, his mind as wandering as his eyes. Deep down he knew he was looking for Bela, watching every demon and soul he saw ever so carefully for her. He could still feel her master's presence on the outer reaches of his senses, waiting. For what, Gabriel had no desire to know. He only prayed that Bela would keep to her word and help them.

Sam stayed as silent as Gabriel, eyes flicking from one tortured soul to the next, disgust clear in his eyes. This was the ring of the false, where Pestilence would have reigned if he'd still been around, bringing sickness upon the worst of the sinners. Gabriel knew Sam didn't need an explanation as to why the archangel was so uneasy with this area, it was as clear as the wings on his back.

And each time Sam slept, more and more time passed before he would awake again. Gabriel watched over him with his heart in his throat, counting the hours and days down until the human's eyes fluttered open once more and he allowed himself to breath a sigh of relief. He dreaded the day not too far off when Sam would cease to wake at all.

A week and a half into their trek through the eighth ring, Sam finally spoke up. Gabriel couldn't have been more thrilled, though he tried not to let it show on his face. He wanted Sam to open up to him. But to his utter surprise, it wasn't about to be an admission of deep feelings and/or secrets that the archangel had hoped for, but rather, a startled exclamation. "Over there-" Sam started, pointing wildly into throng of the sick and the agonizing milling about on the opposite side of the gorge. "I _know _that guy."

The archangel blinked, peering across the expanse into the multitude of the damned with a frown, "Which one?"

The Hunter stepped forward as if to show him, but Gabriel caught the back of his coat to stop him from getting too close the edgeof the canyon. "Whoa whoa, kiddo. Hold up there. I know it's exciting and all, but calm down and wait until we get to the next bridge, kapeesh? Then you may romp around and find this lost amigo of yours all you like." He dragged Sam back from the precipice with a restrained sigh. This kid was starting to become a royal pain in his ass. One second he had angst rolling off of him like Niagara Falls, the next his eyes had lit up because he thought he saw someone he recognized. Typical. Gabriel didn't have the heart to explain to Sam that even if it was someone he knew, chances were they were a demon by now. This was Hell, after all. And he felt uneasy at even approaching whoever it was that Sam had spotted. Again, this was Hell. The soul was damned and he didn't care too much to get close to it.

A rickety old rope bridge swayed across the gorge in a nonexistent wind, many of the wooden planks having fallen away from it long ago, leaving large gaps where an entire person could easily fall through. Gabriel didn't miss the nervous swallow Sam gave as he stared at it, or the suddenly determined look that entered his eyes when he placed his hands on the fraying ropes on either side. Oh, Father, Gabriel knew he was going to regret letting him do this. The archangel followed him across with one hand on the Hunter's back, steadying him and giving Gabriel a place to catch should Sam suddenly fall. They were a little less than halfway across when The Trickster heard an ominous snap, and he knew they were screwed.

Sam flinched back from the rope, eyes wide as more of the threads that held it together began to stretch too tight and simply break entirely where his hand had been moments before. "This bridge was made to hold souls, not a live Sasquatch," Gabriel remarked calmly, "I'd say we're royally fucked. Now, if you'd please, I kindly suggest we start running as if our lives depended on it, cause they sorta do." He shoved Sam forward and willed the Hunter's feet to move. Which thankfully, they did.

The bridge creaked and swayed beneath them, the thin boards cracking under Sam's weight. A large gap in the structure appeared in front of them and Sam leapt over it without a second thought, clearing it and stumbling across the last few feet of bridge before he touched solid ground once more. Behind him, Gabriel skidded across the bloodstained dirt with not a moment to spare, the bridge falling away behind him, wooden planks clacking against stone as it vanished into the chasm. "Next time you see a soul you think you know, I'm just going to flat out tell you no and keep walking," Gabriel panted, his hands on his knees. "So this had better be damn important." "Uh . . ." Sam looked at a loss for words, and he merely swiveled around and pointed in the general direction he'd seen said sinner, "I think he was over there."

Gabriel groaned with the realization that Sam could have probably gone without seeing this person in particular and thought nothing of it. "All right, let's find him," he relented.

They weaved among the souls, Gabriel silently ticking off the deadly diseases each of them bore. The worst stages of cancer, the spike of a terrible food poisoning, the dregs of Yellow Fever and Small Pox. They were inflicted with illness because their trickery and deceit had been an illness to those around them. Hidden, lying in wait, deadly.

Sam tugged urgently on his sleeve at this point, making Gabriel turn as he gestured to a young man in his early twenties. He had light dirty-blond hair that didn't quite reach the back of his ears, and the angel thought his eyes might have been blue if they weren't painted over black with the years he'd been dead. The man looked up as Sam hesitantly approached, and Gabriel tensed as he noticed the unease in the human's posture. This man had not been his friend in life.

Grabbing Sam's wrist he held him a good six feet away from the demon in question, tightening his grip as Sam cast him a confused look. The demon glanced in their direction, presumably well aware of their presence as he merely blinked at them before he turned back to watching the swarm on the diseased and decaying.

"It's been a long time, Sam," he said coolly, arms folded over his chest.

The Hunter looked him straight in the eyes, moving to stand closer to him and forcing Gabriel to do the same. "It has, Webber. Or should I call you Ansem?" He tilted his head, as though the question was a perfectly reasonable one, though it made little sense to Gabriel.

"Ansem," the demon deadpanned. "It was the name given to me to match that of my brother." He rolled his shoulders, casting Sam a scrutinizing glance, "You're alive. And yet you are walking around down here." It wasn't much of a question, though Gabriel could see the curiosity in his eyes.

"I kind of," Sam waved a hand towards the ground, "Fell in, I guess. To put it in the simplest terms." He frowned, looking out over the souls that walked grimly past, their eyes hollow but not yet demon black. "Why are you not moving along the sides of the gorge with them?" Ansem looked vaguely amused at this, though the archangel was quick to note that most of his human emotions were already faded and unused. "I did once, a few hundred years ago. Now I simply," he swept a hand out in front of him for a moment before crossing it over his chest again, "Oversee." He smirked, the expression cold on his still human face. It would be a long while before he began to look like the decaying messes that most demons existed as down here. "Would you like to see my favorite toy, Sam?" he inquired softly, but the malice was clear in his voice. "I think you might enjoy it."

Gabriel inhaled in alarm, knowing what they were about to see would be far from pretty, but Sam merely nodded, shaking Gabriel off as he tried to urge him away from the place. "Gabe, hush. He won't hurt me, he can't." How Sam was so sure of this, Gabriel really didn't want to know. He had a feeling that this person was a reminiscent of one of the darkest points in the Hunter's life.

The demon smiled obligingly, looking out over the horde that swarmed around him, "Stop walking," he commanded sharply, and to Gabriel's surprise, the souls immediately snapped to attention, gazing up at their overseer with frightened eyes. Sam, however, didn't look even remotely startled at the power Ansem seemed to wield over them, and simply watched, as if fascinated. "Come," the demon barked, the command directed to no one in particular, except that no one moved. A moment passed and Gabriel thought that yes, of course they had to run into the bat-shit-crazy demon, when a young woman stumbled forward. Her eyes were dark with hatred as she looked up at her torturer, the cloths that barely clung to her frail body stained crimson with blood that Gabriel knew instantly was not her own.

Sam's eyes widened in surprise, and Gabriel held out an arm to stop him from stepping any closer to either of them. "Ava," he breathed, remorse clear in his tone.

The woman turned angry eyes to him, and flashed him a cold smile, "If it isn't little Sam. Come here to torture me too, have you? So be it." She returned her gaze to Ansem, "Have you grown soft, demon? Or are you just enjoying the show," she tilted her head back, exposing her throat as if asking for death.

Ansem eyed her display without expression, "I never grow tired of you, Ava."

"How is she not able to control you?" Sam asked suddenly, gaze drifting between them, "She was able to summon them on earth so how-"

"I suppressed her power," Ansem replied before the question was even finished. "Just a sentence was all it took. Simply, _'You can no longer use the powers Azazel gave you'_ and poof, she's as mortal as any of the other souls under my command." He waved a hand dismissively, "She doesn't deserve anything more than that. Not after what she's done. Deceitful, lying whore," he spat out the words, flicking his wrist at her and watching as she fell onto her back, pushed by an unseen force. "She does not go unpunished, Sam Winchester. Every day I bring her before me, deliver out justice and heal her wounds so that we can start from square on all over again." He laughed, an emotionless, cold laugh that chilled the Hunter all the way through.

"_No one_ gets away with killing my beloved brother without punishment," he murmured, kneeling down to wrap his fingers around her throat, digging his nails into the skin and watching with inky black eyes as blood trickled out under his hand. "No one. Especially not her." He sneered, cold and void of all emotion except for his rage and hate. "She'll suffer here forever for her trickery. And she will remain a tortured soul when all the others have become demons and new souls fill this place." He looked up as he caught Sam's hazel-green eyes watching him, "Tell me, Sam. Have you seen my brother since you've been down here?"

Sam swallowed, his heart lurching at the thought of the carefree Andy being trapped down here, "No," he said softly, "he's not here." He shook his head, looking at Gabriel pleadingly. If there really was a God, surely he wouldn't be so cruel as to send Andy down here simply because Azazel had tried, and _failed_ to use him. But Gabriel couldn't answer that question.

"Good," Ansem nodded, his eyes clouding over in what Sam could have sworn was relief. "Good." He stood up, banishing Ava back into the crowd with another flick of his wrist and a command of "Move!" before he returned to the place he'd been standing before. "You would do best to forget you ever saw me then, Sam Winchester, and continue on your way. And I shall do the same. There is a price on your head for the demon that brings you in."

Gabriel snarled, knowing it had been a bad move on his part to allow Sam to meet this demon simply because he had known him in life. "I thought the higher ups believed him to be dead!"

Ansem looked his way for the first time, amused, "Bela is a smart one, I'll give you that. But Percy is smarter. He'll be cautious for awhile, though that doesn't mean he hasn't sent word ahead of him to bring in Sam Winchester if he's spotted."

"And what's the prize when you turn him in?" Gabriel hissed, flaring his wings dangerously. He was going to smote this demon into ashes. Bela too, if she ever showed her face again.

"I have no intention of turning him in," Ansem said smoothly, smirking at the way Gabriel's wings lowered in surprise. "Freedom to roam about the upper world won't bring my brother back," he said softly, "Nor can it redeem the things I have done. But down here I can watch his killer suffer day after day, year after year. There is nothing that brings me more pleasure than that. I'd be throwing it away by turning you in." He shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't' really care, "I'd suggest you get away before I change my mind."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Sam swung his legs from where he sat, immensely amused. If- no- _when_ he got back he knew the first thing he'd tell Dean would be that he'd gotten to see The Trojan Horse. _The_ Trojan Horse. And not only that, but he was sitting on top of it, on it's back just below it's shoulder. He was so giddy he wanted to laugh, imagining Dean's _"God you're a nerd' _stare when he told him.

Somewhere to his left Gabriel sat near the horse's tail, running his fingers through the slightly mussed feathers of his wings absentmindedly. Sam watched him for a long moment before he shuffled over to him, sitting down beside the archangel with a hesitant smile, "Need any help?"

Gabriel gave him a pointed stare that clearly suggested that the idea was idiotic, "No. Good grief, kid, if I'd have known showing you this old hunk of wood would make you this ecstatic, I would have done it ages ago. Now quit fidgeting and get some rest. You're making me nuts."

The Hunter merely blinked, giving the other a puppy-eyed stare that could have made Lucifer himself cave. But Gabriel snorted, looking away and leaping down from the horse, his feet lightly touching the ground far below without so much as a sound. He didn't bother to check to make sure Sam could get down on his own, he knew he could. And besides, he needed to find a way to relieve his pent up frustration after their encounter with Sam's "friend."

Stretching his arms up over his head and clapping his hands together, Gabriel summoned his sword from it's hidden space between dimensions, watching as the blade materialized in his hand, glistening in Hell's faint glow before he swung it, arcing it forward until the metal blazed with fire. The steps were ones he had not practiced in hundreds of years, and they came to him slowly as he whirled on the spot, bringing the sword about and lashing out at invisible opponents. He half wished he had some real opponents to swipe at, but alas, he would never risk going to look for any with Sam around.

That was when he noticed the Hunter watching him, hazel-green eyes wide with awe as Gabriel cut his way through the air, a mass of wings, fire, and pent up fury. He couldn't remember seeing Sam climb down from the horse, and he wondered briefly if he'd been so caught up in what he was doing that more time had passed than he'd realized. Slowing his movements down, he paused in front of the younger Winchester brother, a smirk in place across his features. "What can I do for ya' Sammy?"

"I never knew angels had swords like that," Sam said quietly, gesturing towards the blaze of metal between Gabriel's hands.

The Trickster frowned, remembering that Sam hadn't been completely coherent or conscious when he'd turned this same sword on Lucifer by The Cage. "Yeah, we all do," he said, as though it should have been common knowledge. Which it really wasn't but . . .

"Cass didn't," Sam said insistently. "I never saw it. If he had a thing like that surely he would have used it."

At this, Gabriel couldn't help but let his wings droop from their previously proud position. "Ah, that's probably because it takes a lot of power to manifest it, for a little angel like Castiel. If he wasn't connected to heaven there'd be no way he could summon his." For himself, the power needed to bring his sword into being was merely as simple as any other snap of his fingers, the equivalent to Castiel's entire Grace. He hadn't really thought about it before, why his baby brother had been so helpless near the end of the almost-apocalypse. He'd forgotten that not all angels had his strength in Grace.

He sighed and looked away, not wanting to think about _any _of his siblings at the moment, thank you very much, before he turned his gaze to Sam again. "Do you know how to wield a blade, kid?" Sam shook his head, "Well, sort of. I can use a machete," he grinned, and Gabriel snorted in annoyance. A weed hacker like that was hardly comparable to an angel's sword. "We used them on vampires and-"

"Spare me the gory details, I insist," Gabriel said, holding up a hand and stopping Sam mid sentence. "And get your ass over here," he pointed to the ground in front of him. It would hardly do to let Sam continue to wander around Hell weaponless, he wondered why he hadn't thought of this sooner. He wasn't going to give him his sword, Father forbid, but he could teach him how to use it should the need ever arise, which Gabriel sincerely hoped it didn't.

A bit suspicious, Sam wandered over to said spot, shoulders hunched as though he was afraid Gabriel might stab him trough with the blade he held. Raising his eyebrows, the archangel vanished his sword, watching Sam blink in confusion. "What, you think I'd just let you play with it right away? Not a chance, bucko. Now stand still and relax." He placed his hands on Sam's shoulders, fingers beginning to knead out the knots in the muscles there, "In order to successfully use a sword, any sword for that matter, not just an angel's blade, you need to be as relaxed as possible. Your body has to move with the blade, as smooth as the strokes you swing. Or you're just going to be hacking away at shit like a loon."

Sam smirked at that, letting his shoulders slump under Gabriel's careful, and probably practiced movements. "Kay," he said dazedly. "Then what?" He inhaled as Gabriel grabbed his waist with one hand, placing the other across the Hunter's chest in one swift movement.

"Then you've got to learn how to move. I'll teach you a simple series of steps I learned in my days at The Table," he winked, making sure Sam knew that he was referring to King Arthur's Round Table. He wanted the kid to be impressed. "Just move as I move, I'll guide you."

The Hunter complied, exhaling and breathing in again before he relaxed into Gabriel's grip. The angel began too guide him with no more than a gentle push, urging Sam through the movements. A step to the right, a step forward with his left foot first, lean back, exhale, lean forward, inhale. Gabriel's hands moved up to Sam's arms, fingers skimming along smooth skin just below the sleeves of his t-shirt. Arms up overhead, bring them back down to the right, back up overhead, down to the left, swing forward. The hands went to the Hunter's hips again and Gabriel stepped back.

"Now combine the two together," he aligned himself with the human, just far enough away that they were no longer touching, and close enough to reach out and correct him if Sam faltered in his steps.

Sam nodded, focusing his mind on the moves the archangel had just put him through. He glanced over his shoulder, smiling as Gabriel gave him an encouraging nod. A step to the right, arms up overhead. Looking briefly over his shoulder he felt his heart leap when he saw Gabriel going through the same steps, eyes closed and wings spread behind him. A step forward with his left foot first, arms brought back down to his right side-

Gabriel's hand caught his wrist, "Palms flat, Sam. You're miming holding the hilt of a sword. Just keep your hands relaxed for now." He let go, moving back into place and standing still in the same position as the other, as though waiting for Sam to continue.

Arms back overhead, lean back. Sam glanced at him questioningly, wondering if he was doing this right, but Gabriel had his eyes closed again, his position mirroring the Hunter's. That must mean he was doing it right, right? Exhale, arms down to the left, lean forward. Inhale, swing arms forward.

He looked up as he heard the slow smack of hands being brought together, eyes wide as he took in the sight of the archangel clapping, and not sarcastically either, as if he was genuinely impressed. "Very nice! Not that it doesn't leave much to be desired, but with practice you'll be in tip-top form," Gabriel smirked, showing his teeth.

"Can I try it again?" Sam asked, feeling elated. No one had ever praised him like that before about things such as this. It had always been, "Oh, well when Dean did it he-" or something along those lines.

"Course," Gabriel grinned. "But this time, try to balance your weight on your toes and heels, not the soles of your feet." He placed himself beside the other once more, looking as though he planned to go through the motions with him all over again.

Sam smiled, "This is like that 'Wax on wax off' thing, isn't it," he teased.

"Exactly," Gabriel replied smoothly, "Except that I'm _so_ much better looking that that old Chinese fart." He stretched his wings out when Sam laughed, elated at the sound. "Ready?"

"Ready," Sam agreed.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Sam lay on his back, the smooth, worn down wood under him as solid as any ground. His hands over his head, he stretched his fingers towards the darkness far above, wondering how far it was to the ceiling of the cavern that was Hell. Beside him, Gabriel lounged on his side, a comic book propped open against Sam's shoulder and a candied apple hanging out of his mouth. From their position on top of The Trojan Horse's back, the archangel could see demons coming from miles away, with more than enough time to escape. It was peaceful and safe here.

"Why's this thing here, anyways?" Sam asked suddenly, making the other look up from his very valuable reading.

Gabriel tilted his head to the side, rapping his knuckles against the wood underneath him, "It's a symbol of treachery, Sam. It was the ultimate trick in all of history, the one that led to the fall of Troy and all her people." He smiled, but the expression was forced, and Sam could clearly see that. "I'm almost sad I didn't think of it myself." He lowered his comic, snapping his fingers and watching it vanish, his candied apple quickly following. Licking the last few drips of caramel from his lips, he glanced at the Hunter, catching the questioning look in his eyes and sighing deeply. "You've probably already guessed as much . . ." He started, "But when I died, I fell into this ring. Fitting, isn't it. The Trickster who was never really a Trickster at all landing in the pit of treachery and deceit. Oh how the mighty have fallen." Gabriel shrugged, honey-gold eyes glazed with an emotion Sam couldn't read.

"No," Sam whispered, "It's not fitting at all. You saved us, you _died_ for us. And even if I did hold a grudge for those two hundred some Tuesdays, I would never wish you to be condemned to a place like this." He raised a hand, tangling it into the dark feathers of the angel's upper left wing, finding the place where the bone had healed not long ago.

Gabriel tried not to move, inhaling sharply at the touch. Sooner or later he was going to have to explain to this moron that his wings were just as much of a sensitive spot as anything below the belt. "You don't either, you know," he said breathlessly, holding back a whimper as Sam continued to thread his fingers through his feathers. "You don't deserve to be here."

Sam merely smiled at this, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. Gabriel could tell he didn't believe that one bit. Reaching over he smoothed out a crease in the Hunter's shirt, letting his hand rest on Sam's chest, "Go to sleep," he whispered, "We still have a very, very long way to go yet."

Watching the human's eyes close, Gabriel felt a spark of anger and guilt flare up in his gut at the thought that Sam seemed to believe he deserved Hell and all it's fury. He tried to pull his wings back against his shoulders, but blinked as he noticed the Hunter's fingers still curled deep into his feathers. With a resigned sigh he lay down beside him, letting his hand remain on Sam's chest, calmed by the feeling of his heart steadily beating beneath his palm. Steady, human, _alive_.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Percy picked his way through the slowly moving horde of damned souls, eyes scanning their masses for the features of one in particular. He knew all of Azazel's chosen by name and face, it would not be too hard. He felt Ansem's eyes on him for a split second and he stiffened. Though he had no reason to fear the much lower ranking demon, he was still one of Azazel's children, chosen as a possible bringer of the failed apocalypse. He almost breathed a sigh of relief, except he had no breath to breath, when the gaze turned away, ever watchful of the wandering souls like a herder to his sheep.

It was then that he spotted her, crouched with her hands on her knees, chest heaving as she threw up blood from whatever illness Ansem had stricken her with this time. Percy knew that messing with the demon's favorite plaything was an idiotic decision, but he was getting desperate, especially with his previous pawn Bela Talbot nowhere to be found.

He approached her cautiously, ever watchful of Ansem's roaming eyes. She turned as he purposefully came into her line of sight. Of all the falsifiers in this pit that Ansem oversaw, Ava Wilson was the most intriguing to Percy. She'd been so innocent when she'd first become aware of her powers, unlike Ansem and Andy had been, and even less so than Max. But the tide had quickly turned when she'd realized all she could do. It had brought about her demise in her quest for power before it had even truly begun. A shame, really.

She glared at him with scathing, dead eyes as he sidled up to her, "What do you want, demon," she spat.

Percy smirked, a look he knew would send shivers down her spine with his rotted, deformed face. Which it did. "Just information," he replied coolly. "I want to know whether or not a human and an angel passed this way." His eyes found Ansem again, knowing that he was sinking so low as to talk to the damned because the demon who ruled this section was just as human as Bela had been. He was going to have a talk with whoever had put him in such a position of power if he ever got through this mess.

"You're looking for the Winchester boy," Ava said slowly. She pointed vaguely in the direction the dark chasm stretched, "They were following that from what I could tell," she coughed, a spat of blood hitting the already crimson stone ground beneath her feet. "Anything else you'd like? Or can I go back to suffering in peace," she said sarcastically, though there was fear in her gaze. If Ansem was more than she could handle, Percy would torture her until her mind was nothing more than a jumble of crazed thoughts.

"That is all," Percy nodded to her, begging to slink out of the crowd. "Tell no one I was here and I won't return," he added hastily, red eyes aglow with warning.

Once he was out of the throng of the sick, he began to follow the canyon edge, snapping his fingers loudly as he went. A howl resounded through the eighth ring, followed by another and another until his footsteps echoed with the howls and barks of his hellhounds. He was going to make Sam Winchester suffer if it was the last thing he ever did.

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

This chapter was haaarrdddd! Mostly cause making Ansem like that made me tear up, probably. His weirdly homoerotic, twincest attachment to Andy always made me cry in that episode. I took strange pleasure in letting him torture Ava. B)

Another chapter coming right up. Bela will make an appearance again and Percy might get a run for his money.


	9. Chapter 9

**Crossing The Inferno: Undying Loyalty**

Sam had never felt so blessedly warm and comfortable in his life as he did the hours Gabriel lay beside him while he slept. The archangel was like a hot water bottle, his normal body temperature at least a few degrees higher than any humans'. He seemed to take consolation in the steady rhythm of Sam's heartbeat, and the Hunter often awoke to Gabriel simply watching him, palm spread out over the left side of Sam's chest. The first few times Sam was able to catch him doing it, the angel jerked away as though burned, or perhaps from a fear of being scorned. But after a week or so, he stopped, letting his hand linger where it rested while Sam yawned and stretched, only moving away when the younger Winchester brother decided to sit up.

Their days began to become almost routine. Wake up, practice the moves Gabriel showed him that will eventually (Sam hoped) lead to sword wielding, eat, walk until they were too tired to go any farther, eat again, sleep. Sam thoroughly enjoyed the practice, even if after weeks of it, Gabriel still refused to let him so much as even touch his blade. It helped Sam wake up, something he found he had a harder and harder time doing, though he tried not to worry about that too much. And it kept him relaxed, a thing he discovered he had missed in his years hunting evil shit at his brother's side.

It helped keep his mind off of Dean, at least for a little while.

He became especially grateful of the practice when the encountered the next overseer of the eighth ring of Hell. Unlike Ansem, this demon was neither young in his years as hell spawn, nor did he bare any trace of former humanity, if he'd even possessed it in the first place. His figure was gruesome and rotting, as it was with all of the older, more experienced demons Sam had seen surprisingly few of. A sword swung between his hands, hacking away at the wailing souls that milled about the edge of the gorge Sam and Gabriel diligently followed. The second they were able to see him clearly was also the Sam moment he could clearly see them.

Apparently, the price on their heads was a lot more worth it to him that it had been to Ansem. And while Gabriel was more skilled than anyone Sam had ever known with a sword (people of which he could count on one hand), he wasn't a match for sheer brute force. Where the archangel's strokes and blows were as graceful as they were powerful, the demon swung his blade like one would a baseball bat rather than a sword, and raw strength was all it took to send Gabriel flying, flaming angel sword knocked from his hands.

Sam had reacted on instinct, watching the world slow down around him as the behemoth of a demon went at Gabriel like a moth to a flame, ready to cleave the angel in two. The Hunter lunged for the fallen blade, rolling in the same movement and coming up between Gabriel and the demon, plunging the sword deep into the thing's chest just before the creature could do the same to him, and Gabriel in turn.

He'd never seen the archangel so pissed in his life. There had been a lot of yelling, on both sides. Gabriel snapping that Sam couldn't possibly get any stupider, and that another move like that would most likely cost him his life. Sam screaming that it would be worth it if it saved Gabriel's. And at this, the angel had almost wilted under the Hunter's intense gaze.

"The last thing you should ever do is die for me, Sam," he'd whispered.

Something in Sam had broken with those words, though he didn't know why. Gabriel had born such an anguished look at the thought of him dying for his sake that Sam couldn't bear to retort.

After another few weeks, Gabriel shifted out of his state of half sleep to find Sam gone from the place where he should have been by his side. He panicked, leaping to his feet and turning on the spot trying to catch sight of where the Hunter could have possibly gone. To his immense relief Sam was crouched among some stones not too far away, peering over them so intently that he didn't notice the angel's approach.

Gabriel lay his hand flat against the space between Sam's shoulder blades, curling his fingers and digging his nails in with an annoyed snort, "Don't run off, you idiot. You're going to give me a heart attack."

Sam blinked, tilting his head back to stare up at him with a faint smirk, "Worried about me?" he asked lightly.

"Hardly," Gabriel growled. His eyes wandered down to where Sam had been looking previously, and he bit his lip. Below the rocky outcropping that bordered the edge of their newest camp lay a steep drop that continued along the edge of the gorge. It was almost like a pit, a deep crater that rose up again miles away on the very edges of Gabriel's vision. "The Valley of Thieves," Gabriel lowly, his tone cold with dislike. If they'd reached this place then at least they were nearing the end of the eighth ring, though that didn't mean they were much closer to their destination than they'd been previously. Sighing deeply, Gabriel stood up and brushed the dirt off of his already very filthy pants, the actions not making much of a difference.

"I get the feeling that we'll be meeting our little demon friend again down there," he muttered, casting Sam a glance out of the corners of his eyes. He hadn't seen or heard anything from Bela since their last encounter, almost three months ago on the other side of the eighth circle. And he had yet to let Sam see her at all. "This would be the ring where she fell, wouldn't it," he mused aloud, watching Sam's eyes flicker towards the valley below with a flash of guilt.

He still didn't understand why the younger Winchester brother seemed to blame himself for her death. As far as he was aware, she'd signed the contract and made the deal all on her own. There was nothing more to be done. Sighing to himself, Gabriel decided that if he ever got around to it, he'd bring up the subject later. Maybe.

Tilting his head, he gazed out over the valley looming ahead and frowned, letting his hand fall to the place between Sam's shoulder blades again, "Come on," he whispered, "Let's get moving before we chicken out, okay?" He doubted such a thing would ever happen, but the look on Sam's face was exactly what he wanted, as though the Hunter was greatly offended that Gabriel thought he would ever do such a thing. The archangel merely smiled innocently, practically skipping away to go round up what little things they had, AKA, their coats and the water bottle Sam usually carried. The dying embers of their fire from the night before and the dirtied blankets strewn across the rocks would be left behind, vanishing without a trace as they turned their backs to the place. There would be no trail to follow.

Slowly, they picked their way down the steep ridge into the valley, Gabriel keeping his wings spread out behind him for balance, lunging forward every now and then as Sam lost his footing and skidded down the slope ahead of him. After awhile, Sam stopped trying to compete with the angel on getting to the bottom first, and simply took up space beside him, allowing Gabriel's hand to rest against his back, guiding him down. The Hunter could only count on one hand the number of times since he'd fallen into Hell that they'd walked this close, and he took what little comfort he could in it, leaning into the angel when the footing became uneasy.

At the bottom of the ravine, Gabriel tugged him to the side so that his feet barely touched the surface of the Valley of Thieves, motioning with a hand for Sam to turn his gaze farther along the edge of the stones bordering it.

The faint clip-clop of hooves resounding off the rocks made Sam flinch visibly, his mind immediately going to old legends of the Devil, hooves and all. It wasn't until Gabriel made an almost inaudible shushing noise that he realized that it couldn't possibly be. For one, he'd seen Lucifer in his Cage, made up of blazing flames, claws, and wings. There wasn't a single hoof on him. All the same, the stiff fear did not entirely ebb from his frame, even as the archangel rubbed a soothing circle over the burned map of skin hidden beneath is shirt.

Across the ground trotted something Sam had never seen. It bore the upper body of a full grown man, and the lower of a horse, four legs and all. His tail swished back and forth as he moved towards them, his head held high as though he didn't know that he was in Hell, where no one held any sort of authority save for the most tainted of demons. Sam shivered in awed fear, though the fact that Gabriel had hardly moved from the spot told him that they were perfectly safe where they were. At least for now.

"Gabriel," the centaur didn't sound the least bit surprised to see him, though he knew the angel by name. His front hooves pawed at the ground, and he stared down at the archangel impassively. "What brings you here?"

Gabriel smirked, waving his hand vaguely in the air in front of his face, "Death, among other things." He watched the centaur's eyes shift to Sam, gazing at him for a moment before focusing on The Trickster once more. "I see you are still perfectly content to remain in this place, Cacus."

The centaur snorted, tossing his head to the side in a manner that reminded Sam a little too much of a horse, his long dark hair falling over his shoulders. "Be that as it may, that does not give you the free passage you are obviously seeking, Gabriel."

"It doesn't?" Gabriel asked innocently.

"Percy is looking for you," Cacus said darkly, a tinge of weariness in his voice, "He can't be fooled for long, no matter how good the trickery appears to be. He demands the vessel be returned." His eyes, black as any demons, shifted to Sam again, his long tail flicking over his haunches in unease.

"He can demand all he likes but it's never going to happen," Gabriel said lowly, as though daring the centaur to try anything. His wings twitched, close to Sam's shoulder, a sign the Hunter was beginning to recognize as the first hint of hostility.

Cacus blinked down at him with a neutral expression that twisted into something almost like a frown of disdain, "As you wish," he turned around, hooves kicking up dust as he ground them into the rock and dirt. "I'll take you as far as I can then."

The archangel grinned, almost as if he'd been expecting this reply all along, though Sam could clearly see the tension leave his muscles where it had held firm before, his dark feathers dropping back down in relief. He placed a hand on the Hunter's back again, pushing him until they walked side by side once more. It seemed he wasn't taking any chances in this particular part of the eighth ring.

They walked for a long while before the centaur finally spoke again, not looking back as his voice rose above the eternally eerie silence of Hell. "I heard the hellhounds gathering a few days ago," he said slowly.

Gabriel nodded, Sam's eyes widening in confusion, "I did too. But I haven't heard them since. I was hoping that we might have managed to lose them."

"I wouldn't put too much faith in that belief, Gabriel," Cacus muttered darkly. He twisted his upper body to the side at this, looking out over a small outcropping of stones not far away. "I suggest you cross directly through my domain. Even demons fear the wrath of the creatures there."

"Which sounds oh so pleasant for us," Sam said under his breath, narrowing his eyes in Gabriel's general direction, hoping the angel would hear him. He was more than a little pissed that he hadn't been told about the hellhounds before now, and he'd rather not walk through any place even a demon disliked, thank you very much. But Gabriel either didn't hear him (which was unlikely) or he was ignoring the remark. Sam gritted his teeth and looked away.

The centaur stopped on the other side of the rocks he'd been looking over before, bending down just out of sight, reaching a hand towards the ground. Sam stood on his tiptoes, trying to see what he was picking up, only to have his breath catch in his throat as something surged up Cacus's arm and onto his shoulder, draping itself around him as though it belonged there. It raised it's dark scaled head when it noticed the pair standing off to the side, blinking at them with large yellow eyes, it's claws clicking together near the centaur's spine, bat-like wings shifting against it's back.

Gabriel didn't appear to be at all alarmed by the sight of this thing, and neither did Cacus, but Sam backpedaled until the archangel stopped him with his outstretched wing. Cacus cast him a gaze that was as cold as that of the dragon perched across his shoulders and back before he turned and gestured downwards. Gabriel pushed Sam a bit ahead of him, forcing him to move until they stood at the centaur's side, gazing down into the depths of The Valley of Thieves. "Cross through the center," he said calmly, "You are not one of the souls I am ordered to look after, so the snakes will take no notice of you."

"Snakes," Sam echoed, peering down into the roiling group of tortured souls not too far below, swallowing. "Uh, yeah. That sounds just peachy." He huffed as Gabriel elbowed him in the side, hard.

"We're grateful, Cacus," Gabriel said, earning an emotionless nod from the other.

"I'd hurry, if I were you," the centaur deadpanned, though he gave no reason as to why they should do so.

"Right," Gabriel shoved Sam ahead of him down the slight slope, following at an equal pace, "Let's get going then."

Amidst the souls of the damned, Sam did his best to look only straight ahead of him, but event that did little good. Snakes the size of garden hoses leapt and hissed around them, sinking their fangs into the screaming dead. The bodies of the bitten quickly twisted into tortured, hideous forms, writhing and wailing until they lay heaving on the ground, returned to their original state only to be poisoned with the serpent's venom once again. "Try not to look, kiddo," Gabriel whispered ear his ear, walking shoulder to shoulder with him, "We'll be through in no time. Just try not to look at them."

'No time' was begging to stretch into hours, with no place to rest. Sam had tucked his head against the archangel's shoulder a while back, unable to look even straight ahead any longer. One of the angel's arms was wrapped around his neck, a hand covering his ear as the Hunter stumbled along beside him, trying to block out as much of the noise the damned emitted as possible. Sam shuddered against him every time anyone screamed particularly loud, and he knew it wasn't working as well as he'd hoped. Gabriel didn't like it either, but as the former vessel of Satan, Sam had it worse off. The wails would seem louder, the sight of those poisoned by the snakes more hideous and grotesque, as Lucifer wished it to be when he too looked upon the people of his underworld.

"We're almost there," he soothed, wincing as a soul collapsed right in their path and steering Sam quickly around it. Up ahead he could make out the slight incline in the land that announced the edge of the valley, and he breathed an audible sigh of relief, tightening his arm around the Hunter. "Almost there."

Practically dragging the younger Winchester up the hill, he walked until they were far enough away from the valley that he couldn't hear the screams of the former thieves any longer, and lowered Sam to the ground with a grunt of exhaustion. "Hey," he snapped, pushing Sam's face away from his shoulder and placing it between his hands, shaking the other slightly as Sam stared at him with blank, glazed eyes. "Hey, Sam, come on. We're through. Look at me, kid."

Sam blinked, once twice, before he heaved in a breath, shaking his head and letting Gabriel's worried hands fall away. He pulled his knees up to his chest and lowered his chin to them, sucking in air as though he'd been holding his breath the whole way across. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I get it," Gabriel nodded, "It's hard to see, for someone like you. But I hate to break it to you, bucko, it's only going to get a hell of a lot worse. No pun intended." He let his hand go to Sam's forehead, frowning at the slightly higher than normal temperature. "Let's rest here for the night, all right?"

Sam nodded, but he didn't move as Gabriel set about snapping the usual fire and blankets into existence. "We're never going to get out," he said suddenly, viridian eyes staring down at the rock beneath him as though it held all the answers.

Gabriel's head jerked up so fast he would have gotten whiplash, had he been human. "Yes you are," he growled. "You're going to get out of this place, Sam, so help me Father. Don't you ever say that again."

The Hunter glanced in his direction with a slight frown, "You said 'you're going to get out.'" He blinked, "Not we. What-"

Whatever Sam had been abut to say was cut off as his head snapped up, a loud howl sounding not far away. It was a sound he was more than a little familiar with, one that sent chills down his spine, reminding him of the night of May second, 2008, when Dean had died in his arms. "Gabe-" he started, eyes wide with fear.

But the archangel had already lunged towards him, hauling him to his feet and tugging at the edges of his coat, pulling him along with a yell of, "Run!" He didn't need telling twice.

On Earth, hellhounds were invisible to the human eye, coming as fast and unseen as death himself. But Sam chocked on his own saliva when he saw the first of the creatures come bounding into view ahead of them, a snarling mess of a dog. It's eyes were as red as the blood that dripped from it's teeth, it's body distorted as though it had been stretched through a taffy pull and then snapped back into place. The fur across it's body was as black as a demon's eyes, flecked with dried blood and god knows what else. And the smell that lingered around it made Sam gag, a hand going to cover his mouth.

Gabriel hissed beside him, drawing up short as the one hellhound was quickly joined by another, and then another, and he placed himself between them and Sam without a second thought, wings flaring and a snarl of rage ripping itself from his throat. His sword materialized into his hand, the hilt pressed against his palm as he twisted his fingers around it, holding it out in front of him with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"That will do you little good, and you know it," a voice said coldly, making the archangel's gaze jerk to the side.

The demon that stood before them resembled the ones that had first attacked them outside of the ninth circle, twisted and rotting in form, so far from humanity that Sam doubted he had ever been at all. His eyes glinted crimson as he watched them, arms folded over his chest and a sinister smile that would make any mortal man fall to their knees in fright crossed his features. Sam buried a hand in the cloth between Gabriel's shoulders and wings, looking swiftly away. "Did you really think you could elude me for long?" Percy asked softly, his voice possessing an almost unnoticeable, deadly pitch to it.

"It was a nice idea," Gabriel said lightly, though his posture didn't change in the slightest. If anything, he pressed closer to Sam, shielding him as much as he possibly could.

Percy smirked, "So was the Atomic Bomb. I have to admit, you had me fooled for a couple weeks back there. But then I ran into an old friend of yours, Sam." He turned his gaze to the Hunter, or what he could see of him behind Gabriel's flared wings. "Ava is quite the talker when she wants to be, as I'm sure you know. Ansem should have thought to order her into silence." He shrugged, watching with satisfaction as Sam stiffened in disbelief. "Still betraying you, even in death, isn't she. Pity."

"Shut up," Gabriel snarled, pointing his sword towards the demon in kind. "Before I make you shut up."

"I'm so scared," Percy mocked. He snapped his fingers, eyes falling to the hellhounds gathered around him, "Very well then. If it's a fight you want, you can have as many as you'd like."

Sam gasped as the hellhounds leapt towards them, Gabriel's sword whistling through the air as it swung down on them. A few of them yelped and fell back for a moment, blood gushing from new wounds on their bodies, before they lunged for the angel once more, apparently undeterred. Gabriel's wings pushed him back far behind him just before he twisted around, severing the head off of one of the creatures and plunging the blade into the back of another. But no matter how fast he moved, or how many wounds he inflicted on them, Sam couldn't see an end to it, the swarm of hellhounds becoming more and more numerous as Percy merely looked on with a cold, satisfied gaze.

Sam dodged sideways, coming up behind the archangel and snatching a knife from where it hung on the back of his belt. Gabriel didn't even cast him a glance, though he nodded once as Sam darted away again, racing towards the demon. This wouldn't stop until the thing commanding the hellhounds lay dead, and if Sam didn't act, he had no doubt that Gabriel would die trying to protect him. He went for where he thought the demon's ribs to be, knife held in front of him.

Percy swung around and grabbed his wrist before the knife could even knick his skin, twisting until Sam screamed, the fragile bones shattering beneath the demon's fingers. Gabriel's gaze immediately snapped to the Hunter, the hellhounds surging onto him and dragging him down in a struggling mass of feathers and limbs as his attention was momentarily diverted.

"Sam, Sam, Sam," Percy scolded coolly, eyes emotionless save for the pure triumph that glinted in their scarlet depths. "Did you really think that would work? Now you're going to watch your angel die right here and now." Sam struggled, and the demon's other hand gripped the back of his neck, forcing him to watch as Gabriel disappeared underneath the mass of hellhounds. The knife fell to the ground. "Scream for him, Sam," Percy commanded, voice a mere hiss over the howls and snarls of the dogs. "Let him hear you," his nails dug into the back of the Hunter's neck, blood pooling where they pressed too deep into the skin.

"Gabriel!" Sam yelled, writhing in the demon's grip, despite the shooting pain in his arm from his broken wrist. It couldn't end like this. Not like this. Please, God, not like this. His fingers scrabbled uselessly along the handle of the knife where it lay on the ground, but without the use of his wrist, he couldn't get a grip on it. No, no, no . . . Please, no. "Gabriel!" He screamed again, useless tears welling in his eyes. As he heard the archangel shout, pained and muffled beneath the hellhounds. Oh, God.

Light fingers touched his throbbing wrist before he felt the knife snatched from beneath his hand. Sam tried to twist his gaze around just as Percy let out a gasp of pain, his grip on the Hunter falling away. Sam slumped to the ground, staring up at the demon as he turned, the knife protruding at an angle from his back, not quite long enough to puncture his chest. His arms wrapped around the neck of a young woman standing just behind him with a snarl that was more annoyed sounding than it was wounded. "You little fool!" he growled, lifting her from the ground, watching as she struggled uselessly against him. "Bela, did you really think that even using the blade of an angel, a lower demon like yourself would have the strength to kill me?" He laughed, the sound cold and hollow.

"Bela," Sam breathed, trying to push himself to his feet only to howl with pain as Percy's foot came crashing down on his ankle, making it as useless as his wrist.

"Don't move," the demon hissed, before returning his gaze to Bela Talbot once more, watching as she gasped like a fish out of water, hands scrabbling against his arms as he tightened his fingers around her throat. "But I can kill you, Bela. and you know it. You were a fool to cling to your humanity so, and now you will die with it." Percy grimaced, pulling the knife from his back and raising it to her head. "Shall I plunge this into your skull?"

Sam couldn't move from where he lay on the ground, eyes clouded with pain before he closed them, unable to watch, though he could still hear them, as well as Gabriel screaming his name.

"Sam!"

Bela's eyes flicked to him, her gaze impossibly darkening as she saw him fall back to the ground with a whimper as Percy kicked at his shattered ankle. Her eyes returned to the other demon once more, a small, determined smile crossing her features, watching as his expression went from pleased satisfaction to confused in a split second.

The Hunter looked up as he heard Percy screech in terror, eyes snapping to the demons as Bela lunged at him, twisting in his grip. Her face contorted, fur rippling up across her features, teeth latching onto the demon's throat. Where her hands had been before, clawed paws scrabbled at Percy's chest, ripping him open.

There was no blood, only an inky blackness exploding outwards and turning into ashes. The demon lay still, and the dog that stood in Bela's place cast him a glance before it leapt into the fray around Gabriel, throwing hellhounds from him with a snarl.

Stunned, Sam lay where he was for a moment before inching away from the demon's lifeless body, dragging himself across the ground towards where the archangel had disappeared beneath the hellhounds minutes ago. A sword suddenly arched up amidst the swarm, slashing across the creatures. This time, as blood hit the ground below, they did not rise again, their master slain. Sam watched, chest heaving for breath as Gabriel slowly emerged from the masses, yelling something at those remaining and watching as they scurried away, before he turned and stumbled towards Sam. There were feathers missing from his dark wings, and one of his arms bore a deep gash that dripped blood with every step.

"Oh, shit," Gabriel murmured, slumping onto the stone ground beside him with a grimace, eyes finding Sam's twisted wrist and swollen ankle. "That guy was a major bitch." He lay a hand first on the Hunter's wrist, then on his ankle, watching the silver blue threads of his Grace leave him and twist into the other, pulling the bones back together better than any doctor could do. "Where'd that Bela chick go?" he asked, pulling his hand away and flicking his wrist with a frown. If they kept going like this, he'd have no Grace left when they finally got out. He huffed in surprise as Sam sat up at leaned forward, arms wrapping tight around the angel's shoulders. "S-Sam?"

Sam didn't say anything, pressing his face into the indent between Gabriel's shoulder and neck before he pulled back, bringing his arms up over his head and tugging his shirt off. Gabriel opened his mouth, about to say that this was really not the time for something like this before he noticed the Hunter beginning to rip the garment into long thin strips. The archangel sat still as Sam began to wrap up his bleeding arm, tying the makeshift bandages tight around it. His gaze fell to the human's chest in an attempt to distract himself from the pain, and his eyes widened. The handprint that lay across Sam's upper chest just below his sternum burned as raw and red as the day Gabriel had pulled Lucifer from the man. By all means, it should have faded away into nothing by now, with no meaning behind it. In fact, he'd seen it beginning to do so while they were still back in the ninth circle. But now it shone as though it had been branded there yesterday. Gabriel's eyes found Sam's hard and determined ones as he bound the archangel's wound. It couldn't be.

The Hunter's eyes met his as he pulled away, hands red with the angel's blood which he wiped on his jeans with a frown. "That should do it, I think."

"Uh, yeah," The Trickster said quietly. He looked away quickly, once again searching for the demon who had helped them. "Where'd Bela go?"

Sam blinked, looking around in turn until his eyes fell on a dog hunched a few feet away. Unlike the other hellhounds, it was pleasant to the eyes, it's form not distorted in any way, though blood dripped from it's blue-black fur and muzzle. It gazed at them with dark eyes, inky black, and Gabriel slapped his palm to his face with a groan. "Holy shit . . ."

The younger Winchester brother blinked in confusion, "What?"

Gabriel threw his hands in the air, wincing as a spark of pain laced up his injured arm. "Now I can't possibly tell her to stay away! Ugh," he rolled his eyes, glancing at the cowering dog, "Come here, Bela," he said softly, motioning with a hand.

Slowly, the dog approached, head hanging low as though it was afraid Gabriel was going to hit it. Sam's eyes widened, "Wait, that's Bela? That can't be!"

"You saw her change with your own eyes, Sam," Gabriel said, reaching out a hand to pat the dog between the ears. "And unlike Taylor Lautner, she can't change back." He sighed, glancing at the Hunter with glazed eyes, "Do you know how hellhounds are born, Sam?" When Sam shook his head, he returned his gaze to the one crouched at his side, "Like a normal dog, hellhounds are viciously loyal. Usually, higher demons collect lower ranking ones to them to gain their trust, and wait for a situation where the lower ranks are forced to protect them. If the younger demons are truly loyal to that higher up, they'll transform into a symbol of that loyalty," He gestured to a dog before them, "in order to protect their master."

"Then she did it for that . . . Demon?" Sam said in disbelief.

Gabriel snorted, "No. If she had she would have looked as disgusting as those other hellhounds that attacked us. The dog reflects it's master." He sighed, "Believe it or not, I think she did it for you, Sam."

The dog, no, Bela, turned sad eyes to him, it's head tucked almost to it's chest. Sam stretched out a hand to scratch the fur between her ears, feeling more helpless. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Bela whined, leaning into his touch and wagging her tail slightly against the ground.

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

I couldn't pass up the idea of Bela turning into a hellhound. When I was thinking about the sequel to this story, Sam had a hellhound with him (I always thought that'd be sweet) and I couldn't think of why he should have one (besides the obvious cool factor). And when I couldn't decide what to do with Bela at the end of the story, it all kinda just clicked into place, yah know? Mostly cause of the song Conviction by Groove Addicts was playing while I was contemplating it, and the image of her ripping Percy to shreds formed in my head. Idk, I thought it was pretty cool, and it took care of two of my plot holes in one swing, so whatever.

Anywho . . . . I think I have some kind of serious addiction to Gabe/Sam stuff, at the mo. Considering that Destiel is still my OTP for the show, and I only have 77 collected fics for it in my folder, and 96 for Gabe/Sam . . . And it's not even as big of a pairing. ? Maybe I'm just too Destiel picky, hmm? I would also like to note that I squeal like a little girl when I find a Sabriel fic longer than 20 pages. Black Swans practically made me hyperventilate with excitement. So yeah, an addiction. Anyone want to help feed it? *_*

Soooommmee angst and romantic fluffernutter coming up next chapter. :3


	10. Chapter 10

**Crossing The Inferno: When Stars Collide**

Gabriel threaded his fingers through the thick fur on either side of Bela's neck, the pads of his fingertips pressing against the skin underneath. "Sam asked me to give you back your voice, after everything you've done for us," he said calmly, though his eyes sparkled with faint annoyance at the idea. "At first he asked me to change you back, but you know as well as I that that's impossible. This is what you chose." She growled and he smiled, pulling his hands away and watching the bit of Grace leave him and flow into her. "Well, what do you think?"

She barked in reply, tilting her head to the side. Gabriel rolled his eyes, "Don't look at me like that, I did what I could. You'll just have to work on it." He shrugged and placed his hands behind him, easing his weight slowly back so as not to hurt his already injured right arm further. Glancing sideways he could make out Sam, curled up in the usual mound of blankets within arm's reach. His chest rose and fell as he slept, soft mumbles and snores reaching the angel's ears from where he sat. Bela barked at him again and he raised an eyebrow at her, "I'm not going to answer that question until you can say it in English," he smirked, watching as she bared her teeth at him in frustration. "Come on, it's not too hard. Just keep trying."

Reaching over, he tangled his fingers into the hair on the top of Sam's head, smiling as the Hunter immediately stilled beneath his touch, still sound asleep. Bela barked again and he looked up, waiting patiently as she struggled to form words.

"H-how . . . Long," she said finally, looking a tad bit startled that she'd even managed that much successfully. Her tail wagged.

The archangel glanced at Sam, knowing what she was asking, "His record is fifty hours. It's only going to get worse from here on out, isn't it." He frowned as she nodded, her tail drooping once more, swishing across the stone ground. "I know what I have to do . . . It's just . . ." He shrugged again and bit his lip, unsure of how to say what he meant.

"The mark," Bela said suddenly, tongue stumbling on the words a bit. "I saw the . . . The mark. On his chest."

"Yeah," Gabriel nodded, remembering the handprint that should have already faded away, yet hadn't. "It shouldn't be there. As you said before, it has to be a mutual arrangement for it to remain in place."

"Maybe it is," she said, padding over to curl up at Sam's side, laying her head on her paws.

Gabriel snorted in disbelief, "As if that would ever happen. I still have seven months left before the first year is out, I'll decide what to do then if things get any worse than they already are." He sighed, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his arms against them. "We're going to need time to heal and adjust. All of us. I wouldn't mind staying in this area, at least for now. Sam needs the rest." He flicked his gaze to the hellhound again, watching as she seemed to be perfectly content to stay at the human's side. "Why _did_ you do it, anyways?"

Bela's ears twitched in his general direction, but otherwise she didn't move for a long moment. Finally, her lips curling back from her sharp canines, she muttered, "Because all I want is out. Sam can lead me back to the upper world. I don't care how I look, or what form I'm in. I just . . . Don't want to be _here_ anymore. Never did in the first place."

"Getting pretty good at talking there," Gabriel remarked. "But if you didn't want to come here, why'd you deal with a demon in the first place?" He had little respect for people that were so full of greed they'd sell their own soul.

The hellhound's tail moved to curl around her paws, covering her eyes. She did not answer the question, and Gabriel was content to let the matter drop, at least for now. He pressed his face into the space between his knees and his sternum, letting his eyes close and his mind start to wander in the state of rest that was as close to sleep as an angel would ever get.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

When Sam woke up, the first thing he did was stretch, testing out the dull ache in his wrist and ankle where Gabriel had healed them. Rolling over, he blinked as he came face to face with a wall of dark fur, and he snorted in faint surprise, sitting up to look down at the hellhound curled up beside him. Bela opened one demon black eye as he moved, but otherwise remained where she was, tail waving just above the ground near his claves. Peering around, he quickly caught sight of Gabriel, sitting with his head on his knees, wings tucked behind him and his eyes closed in that almost sleep he sometimes went into. Sam grinned, he hardly ever woke up before the archangel, usually because Gabriel didn't angel-sleep very much at all.

Tangling his fingers into the fur on Bela's back he whispered, "Wanna explore, girl?" She raised her head, staring at him for a long moment before she wagged her tail and stood. Sam smiled, "We gotta be quiet, okay? Gabe would never let me out of his sight if he was awake." He laughed softly, standing up and keeping a hand in her fur, "Right where do you think we should go first?" The Hunter motioned towards his right, "The rocky outcropping over there?" He did the same towards the left, "Or the one over there?" Straight ahead, "Or how about maybe those mysterious slightly different rocks over there?"

Bela bounded ahead of him towards choice number three, wagging her tail. When they were out of Gabriel's immediate earshot, she barked, darting around the stones and off across the unchanging rocky ground of Hell. Sam laughed and followed her at his own pace, watching as she paused now and then to sniff at something here and there. "You make a cute dog," he remarked, grinning as she shot back towards him like a bullet at the words, sitting at his feet with a hard eyed glare.

"Insult," she barked, making Sam's eyes widen and his mouth drop.

"Gabe-" he started, stunned. He knew that his companion was an angel of incomprehensible power, but he never thought that he'd take his request into account, let alone grant it. Smiling, he scratched the place between her ears, "He's really something, isn't he." He rolled his shoulders, following as she began to move again, her fur brushing against the denim covering his legs, "Half the time I think he's going to say no, it ends up being the opposite. And the other half I think he'll agree and he shoots me down without a second thought." Bela blinked up at him lazily, as though it didn't really matter, though the perked position of her ears indicated that she was listening. "And sometimes he just looks at me like he's seeing something else . . ."

Here, he paused, throat tightening around the words. Over the past few weeks when he'd caught that look in the archangel's eye, he wondered if perhaps Gabriel was seeing his brother, the Morningstar, instead of Sam. It hurt to think that, because he knew it was highly possible. Bela's tail thwapped against the back of his legs and he turned to look at her.

"Not like that," she whispered, and Sam flinched, wondering if she'd been a strong enough demon before she changed to be able to read minds. In reply, she merely stared up at him intently, tail still wagging, slow and waiting.

"How do you know," Sam said softly, tangling his fingers into her fur again, the movement quickly becoming one he took comfort in. Even when they'd known each other in life, he'd never once felt her presence to be a danger to himself. An annoyance, after she'd taken their scratch tickets, yes. A regret after she'd stolen the colt, because he'd believed her to be above that. A guilt after Dean had refused to turn back, they would have been too late anyways. "Never mind," he added after a moment of thought, "I don't want to hear what Gabriel thinks of me."

Bela barked, the sound ringing off of the rocks as she began to trot ahead of Sam once again, clawing her way up the stones and out of sight, the Hunter not far behind, laughing as he scrambled up the small slope. Never mind Gabriel for right now, he was content to explore the unchanging landscape with the hellhound, formerly a demon, before that a human, at his side.

Gabriel shifted out of his state of half-sleep to find a pair of hazel-green eyes staring straight at him. He blinked, leaning back a bit to take in the sight of the Hunter, crouched on his heels with his hands on his knees, looking at Gabriel more than a little intently. "Something you want, kiddo?" the archangel asked lightly, uncurling his wings from their place against his spine and enjoying the feeling of his feathers aligning themselves into more comfortable places.

Sam titled his head to the side, "Uh, yeah. Bela and I found something really cool, we wanted you to come see it." He shifted nervously, standing up and looking down at his feet.

The Trickster sighed, "Don't be like that, Sam," he muttered, a little annoyed. "If you want me to go with you somewhere, be insistent. I won't bite, I swear," Gabriel grinned, showing his teeth pointedly. "Now ask me like you mean it." They'd never be able to work together if Sam started treating him like some sort of higher being (Which he was, but that wasn't the point), down here, they were equals, and Gabriel preferred to be treated like one. Especially by Sam. With everything he'd put the kid through, he should be treated no different than any other monster the Hunter had smote in his lifetime, archangel or not.

Sam's eyes lit up slightly at this, and he practically bounced on his toes with excitement, "There's uh, this thing, over there. Water, I think. It's weird, and Bela won't go near it, but I _swear_ it's water-"

"Water," Gabriel echoed, intrigued. He stood, shifting his wings and shaking the stiffness from them, "Well let's see it then."

The Hunter smiled, motioning towards a rocky outcropping ahead where the angel noticed the blue-gray furred hellhound standing, "Over this way, come on." Gabriel remained where he was however, watching as Sam scrambled around the stones and out of sight before he followed, listening to the sound of Bela barking, leading the way to whatever they had discovered together. Somehow, the idea that he felt perfectly secure in leaving Sam alone with the hellhound made him uneasy. It should be him watching over the human, not Bela. But he did not force his position as the protector either. He had no right to.

"You're so slow!" Sam's head popped over the outcropping, hair that was starting to get much too long flying around his face with the motion. Gabriel made a mental note to get that trimmed sometime soon. "Come on, come on!"

The archangel smiled to himself, shuffling along at his own pace and taking pride in the way Sam became more and more impatient with him, running ahead for awhile before bounding back, one of his typical of the situation bitch faces in place. Gabriel just sauntered along in response, warms behind his head and a grin plastered on his face. It wasn't until Bela started gnawing at his pant legs that he decided to pick up the pace, catching up to the Hunter as they approached a the slope of a hill. "It looks like water, right?" Sam said excitedly.

Gabriel folded his arms across his chest and stared at what the Hunter was motioning to with apprehension. It was a pond, of sorts. Too small to be a lake and too big to be a puddle. The water, if that's what it truly was, near the far end was darker, suggesting a greater depth, and the surface of the whole thing simmered with steam. "I don't know, Sammy," he said honestly, taking note of the way Bela's ears laid flat against the top of her head just looking at it, "Let's take a closer look. At least you didn't jump into it before coming to get me," he relented with a sigh.

Sam frowned, "I think you're confusing me with Dean there. I always think ahead."

"Like a good little boy scout," Gabriel smirked. He paced forward until he drew level with the water, staring down at it with distaste. "It's not normal water, that's for sure." He didn't want to touch it either, and he sent Sam a warning glare when the other tired to edge closer to it. "It's water in every aspect, taste and content, but to those who are dead, those who are damned, it's like acid." Beside him, Bela's tail drooped and she lay down, staying well away from the stuff.

The Hunter groaned, "Ugh, I was half hoping for a bath, but of course it's too good to be true. This is Hell after all." He shrugged, not noticing the way Gabriel's eyes lit up at the idea.

A bath . . . He had some Grace to spare, what could be more worth it. "I could do that," he said with a smile, snapping his fingers. Sam turned, staring at the water as it failed to show even a tiny bit of change. Gabriel merely shook his head at the look, "I put a speck of my Grace in there, kiddo. There's no purer water between here and Heaven now."

If Sam was a dog, Gabriel knew his tail would be wagging as he whooped, leaping into the air and tearing off his shirt as he dashed towards the water. Bela huffed and remained where she was, looking as if she had no intention of joining in the fun. The archangel laughed, sitting down at the edge of the pond and leaving her to her own devices, "Well that's quite a sight," he mused to himself, putting an arm over his head to deflect the hot spray of water as Sam cannonball into the pond.

Lowering his arm he peered at the surface of the water, waiting for the Hunter to reemerge from his stunt. But nothing happened, and a flash of unease worked it's way through his system. Leaning forward, he gazed down into the depths of the pond, wondering if he'd underestimated the power of his Grace, swallowing at the thought.

It was then that water surged upwards, splashing him thoroughly just before strong arms wrapped around his shoulders. He didn't have time to let out more than an, "Wha?" before he hit the water.

It was hotter than he expected, like the overheat of a hot-tub rather than the gentle warmth of a nice bath. Forcing his eyes open, Gabriel flailed a bit until large hands caught him by the shoulders, an explosion of bubbles clouding his vision before he caught sight of viridian-green eyes, crinkled in laughter. The hands dragged him back up into the air, and he gasped, sputtering and spitting while Sam rolled in the water, clutching at his sides. "You little jerk!" Gabriel wheezed, coughing up water, "I won't be able to fly for hours now! Look at my feathers!" He shook his wings, water flying everywhere off of dark plumage. Sam just laughed harder.

"We killed Percy, we're in the clear for now," the Hunter pointed out, treading water as he drifted out towards the other end of the pond, "Relax a little, Gabe." He ducked below the surface again, and Gabriel could only tense, waiting to see what ridiculous thing the human was going to do next. Sam resurfaced just inches away from him, fingers tangled into Gabriel's layers of clothes, "You gonna wear all this while swimming?"

"I didn't want to swim in the first place," Gabriel retorted, rolling his eyes. But he snapped his fingers obligingly, watching Sam's shocked expression with amusement as the Hunter suddenly found himself floating in front of a naked archangel. "You like?" he teased.

Sam looked up pointedly, staring at nothing, "You wish," he muttered, swimming backwards. Gabriel snorted, turning in the water towards the rocky edge of the pond, waving a hand at it and watching as a slab jutted out just right for sitting on below the water's surface. He sighed and lounged back on it, watching with glazed eyes as Sam circled the perimeter of the pond.

A lollipop zapped into existence, and The Trickster stuck it in his mouth, twirling it over his tongue with a bored expression as the Hunter swam back over to him, settling on the jut of rock beside the angel. "Having fun?"

"As fun as Hell can get," Sam grinned, drawing his fingers across the surface of the water and following the paths the ripples he made took with his eyes. "Thank you."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, "For what?"

Sam smiled, ducking his head down until his chin touched the water, "For staying with me. Most people wouldn't have bothered. And I never thought in a million years you would." He shrugged, closing his eyes.

The archangel stiffened, "Hey, wait, that's not true at all bucko. Dean would have stayed at your side the whole way if he could have-"

"Because he feels obligated. It's his duty as a brother," Sam interrupted, waving the very idea away. "That's different."

Gabriel wanted to protest and say that it really wasn't, but he stopped, leaning back with a defeated sigh. "I'm obligated too, I told you that. Save a Winchester once and you're stuck for life."

Sam smiled, the expression not quite reaching his eyes, "But you made the choice to save us in the first place. And besides, I know that line is a total load of crap."

The archangel tensed almost instantly, wings flexing against his back, "Why would you say that?"

The Hunter shrugged again, leaning back as well. Gabriel's eyes immediately fell to the handprint, seared into the Hunter's skin across his sternum just visible above the water. "I just think that that's how it really is," Sam remarked coolly. "I don't think you see it as an obligation at all. It's something you want to do, isn't it."

Gabriel looked away, folding his arms over his chest, "So what if it is?"

Sam sat up a bit straighter, "Then I'd thank you. Which I did," he smirked, "Now, if you'll excuse me . . ."

Bela scooted farther back from the edge of the pond as Sam disappeared below the water with an unnecessary amount of splashing, the angel beside him covering his face. Gabriel let out an audible, drawn out sigh, putting his hands behind him on the shore and pulling himself out of the water, snapping a towel into the air and drying himself off, his feet still swishing about in the pool. Bela barked at him, staying the same distance away as she had been before.

"I know, I know," the archangel muttered. "You don't have to remind me that we're running out of time, mutt. I'm counting down the minutes and the days just as much as you are. And," he glanced at her over his shoulder, waving a hand and waiting as fresh clothes settled comfortably over his form, "I know what I have to do. I just think it would be better if it wasn't a forced issue, all right?"

The hellhound snorted, paws folding together in front of her as she stared the angel down, "Fine."

"Fine," Gabriel snapped back, irritated. He looked away as Sam resurfaced, dripping wet and still all too distractingly naked. The Trickster's eyes drifted to the handprint again, glowing fresh and red as it should not, and he bit his lip.

He was starting to think that it wouldn't be forced at all. And that was what worried him most.

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

I'm soooooo sorry this is so ridiculously late. But I took part in the fourth Secret Angel fic exchange because Destiel is still my number one. Remind me not to do so again, tho, it was a pain and a hyperventilation experience. The fic I submitted ended up being really long. Not to worry tho, a good portion of that was devoted to Gabriel/Sam pre-slash. :D some Crowley/Bobby too, cause it filled space. Lol. But overall, I'm quite pleased with how it turned out, despite the annoying lack of sex.

Speaking of . . . Next chapter . . . You will get no sex. *gets shot* but you will get what you've been waiting for almost as eagerly! (I would hope) sooommmmee confessions . . . And muchas smootchas!

But yeah, reason I finally got this chapter done besides having free time for once - I thought of the bath scene while in the bath. O_O well, as Spencer said, "I always think best when I'm wet." oooohhhh . . . iCarly joke. *gets shot again. Repeatedly*

And about season six? I'm going to shove what has happened thus far (AKA, ep 1) into the pile of things the fangirls pretend NEVER happened. Over in the corner with Harry Potter book 7 epilogue, X Men 3, and other such failures. Tho I believe once Cass comes back, all will be well once more.


	11. Chapter 11

**Crossing The Inferno: Some Hearts**

This is me cracking down on myself to GET 'ER DONE! D:

In Hell, it rained. Lucifer saw the storms that roiled over Hell's surface to be as gloomy and disheartening as they looked. Lightning crackled in the depths of dark clouds, striking the ground and causing it to shudder and quake, and thunder boomed, deafening to the damned who heard it.

But as depressing the approach of the storm seemed at a distance, Gabriel knew that at least about this, Lucifer was dead wrong. Because instead of making their little group on edge, or in bad spirits, Sam was practically leaping for joy at the first crack of thunder in the distance.

"Does it really rain here?" Sam asked, keeping stride with Gabriel step by step as they walked, Bela on his other side, glaring at the thunderclouds as though daring them to come closer.

"You bet kiddo," Gabriel smiled. "Ya see, Luci has this delusion that humanity hates rain, so he added it here just to spite them."

"I love the rain," Sam whispered, stretching his arms over his head towards the clouds drawing ever closer. "It's not going to, I don't know, eat away at us like acid or anything, is it?" The Hunter shuddered, thinking of the pond before Gabriel had added a dash of angel mojo to it.

The archangel chuckled, "That can be arranged. But generally, no. Big bro probably thought it was morbid enough by itself, without the acidity. For some reason he was only able to see the surface of things. That humanity had flaws, that rain clouds were dark, etcetera." He shrugged, his wing feathers fluffing up with the motion, ruffled by the winds of the coming storm, "Same old same old. Luci was too shallow in his own thoughts of grandeur to see the beauty in things."

Sam tilted his head to the side, viridian eyes curious, "So you can? You can see the beauty beneath the flaws?"

Gabriel stopped walking and stared at him for a long moment, biting his lip at the hopeful look the Hunter was casting him. Father, he hated questions with hidden meanings, especially with this kid. "Yeah, I can," he replied softly. "I known that the rain is clear and cold and life-giving, and that humanity, despite it's flaws, is still an amazing and beautiful thing to behold." _I know you're flaws are part of who you are, and I wouldn't have it any other way._ He couldn't say it. Even now when time was running out, he couldn't say it.

Bela growled, as though reading his mind and he shot her a defiant glare. It was Sam's choice, not his, that would determine the outcome of this journey. And he was going to strangle the damn mutt if she kept trying to interfere. On the hellhound's other side, Sam smiled slightly, glancing at the gathering clouds ahead, "We better find someplace to shelter then," he said aloud, "I don't think Bela wants to get wet."

"Correct," Bela confirmed, and the Hunter laughed, still taking delight in the few words she would speak now and again.

The archangel rolled his eyes, "There're some rocks up ahead, I'm sure we can find something if we hurry." Gabriel gestured towards the tumble of boulders and stones not too far away, "Come on."

The storm broke just as they skittered beneath a low hanging jut of stone, Bela shaking the water free of her fur with an annoyed growl. Gabriel chuckled, "Aww, did the puppy get wet? Maybe we should leave the puppy outside, Sammy, we're gonna get some nasty wet dog smell in here now."

"Let her be, Gabe," Sam smirked, ruffling the hellhound's fur fondly. His eyes roamed out towards the uneven rocky landscape of Hell, the ground steaming with warmth as icy-cold rain poured down on it, without rhythm and broken every now and then by the crack and flash of thunder and lighting. "Wow," the Hunter breathed, eyes alight, "This is . . ."

"Amazing," Gabriel finished for him, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat. "Well, there's only one thing to do then, isn't there," he stated matter-of-factly, grinning slightly as his wings twitched in anticipation.

Sam tilted his head to the side, studying the expression on the angel's face for a long moment, "What?" he asked finally. It was hardly a sarcastic question, and he'd posed it in complete honesty. There had never been more than a handful of people who Sam had ever gotten close to, and he knew their habits and actions by heart. In a situation like this, Dean would hole up in the Impala or whatever motel room they were bunked in for the night, refusing to leave until there was much less moisture in the air. Bobby would go for a nice long drive in one of his beat up old cars, listening to the sound of the rain hitting cool metal as if there were no other noises in the world. Castiel would stand outside, staring up into the lightning broken sky with such awe on his face Sam just knew he was marveling at the beauty of his Father's world, at least until Dean would come and drag him back inside, insisting the angel would catch a cold if he got too wet.

But Gabriel . . . Gabriel was all new to him. An demigod, an archangel, a friend. Said angel glanced at him with a sly smile, and Sam blushed. Damn, he wasn't reading his mind, was he?

"Not at the moment no," Gabriel laughed suddenly, and Sam let out a huff of relief before realization took hold.

"G-Gabriel!" the Hunter made a grab for the angel, missing as The Trickster dodged out of his reach and out into the downpour, wings flexing dark feathers out behind him and arching up into the darkened air, black as the clouds overhead. Sam couldn't help but inhale at the sight.

Gabriel glanced over his shoulder at him with a smug look, as if daring him to follow, "Well, Sammy-boy, you just gonna stand there all day? Or are you going to come and enjoy Lucifer's stupidity in thinking rain would get our spirits down."

Sam couldn't help but smile and he shrugged as Bela barked at him, "Just stay here, girl. The rain's not going to hurt me." He squared his shoulders, narrowing his eyes playfully at the archangel, who was practically skipping away as Sam stepped out into the downpour, "You wanna play?" he asked, his voice laced with a fake menacing air.

The archangel grinned from ear to ear, "What kinda stupid question is that?" He raised a finger to his face, twirling it around, "Hellooooo, Trickster?" Without another word he whirled on the spot, dark wings stretched out behind him as he leapt towards the nearest puddle, slowly forming in the rain and dancing with fresh ripples just before Gabriel's feet hit it.

The Hunter threw his hands up in front of his face just in time before he found himself absolutely drenched, the splash that ensued causing an abnormally large amount of cold water to wash over him. "Hey, hey! No using your powers you dirty cheater!" he complained, glaring at the angel over his arm-shield.

"Dirty?" Gabriel grinned innocently, "Why, I'm much too wet to be dirty!"

Sam growled, jumping into the puddle beside the other and causing a rather satisfying amount of water to hit the angel dead in the face, if he said so himself. "You're not quite wet enough yet, if I say so myself."

Gabriel waggled his eyebrows, "That's what she said," he singsonged, jumping back as Sam swiped at him. "Come on Sammy, if ya' really want to kill me that bad, you gotta show me some real moves."

The Hunter frowned, following after him, "I don't want to kill you, Gabe," he said evenly.

"I know bucko, but I've got all this," Gabriel waved his hands in the air vaguely, his wings shifting and sending a spray of water flying around him as droplets lifted off his feathers from the movement, "This pent up . . . Somethin' goin on. I say lets brawl."

Sam raised a disbelieving eyebrow, "Something?"

"Something," the archangel confirmed, raising his arms up and spreading his legs in a defensive position, "so come at me and lets see what you can do, Sammy."

He couldn't help but roll his eyes, "Fine. But if I win, you stop calling me Sammy." Sam was already on his toes, an unconscious offensive movement just milliseconds before he charged forward, hands open and fingers together as he sent a crashing blow down on one of the archangel's arms before Gabriel could react. But to his utter surprise, The Trickster only smiled.

"Very good," Gabriel smirked slowly, "Let's see what else you can do."

Sam tensed, moving swiftly to bring his other hand around towards Gabriel's face, startled as he blocked it, catching his wrist just an inch or two from his nose. "Gabe . . ." Something wasn't right with this whole situation.

"Just hit me, Sam," Gabriel's honey-gold eye were as cold as the water that rained down on them, flashing daringly as lightning struck nearby.

The Hunter swallowed, almost choking around the lump in his throat. He'd seen a look like that before, self loathing, guilt, and flat out helplessness all mixed together. It was the look Dean had worn countless times after he'd returned from Hell, almost as if begging for someone to break him just so he wouldn't have to feel anymore. "Why?" the word slipped away from him before he could stop it. But it was a completely valid question.

Why was Gabriel staring at him with such a heartbroken look?

Gabriel's eyes narrowed, and he twisted Sam's arm in his grip, watching him wince, "Hit me with all you've got kiddo. Just do it."

Swallowing again, Sam couldn't help but be reminded of what Dean had once told him, an admission of his own weakness the night in the alley when he'd begged Castiel to kill him. Sam snarled at the thought. Well if that's what it had taken to make his brother see the light, then maybe Gabriel really did need a good knock upside the head. He moved swiftly, allowing his arm to remain in Gabriel's firm grip, his other hand still poised against the angel's bared arm so that his opponents hands continued to be occupied as he swung his leg up, kneeing the former Trickster square in the gut.

The archangel couldn't help but gasp, the air rushing out of him as he stumbled back, raising an arm to block as Sam swung his fist towards his face at full force. He felt his Grace pulse with that one, hoo boy. That was what he wanted, Father be damned. If Sam hit him, then he wouldn't feel as guilty if he hit back, it was as simple as that.

And if Sam hurt him, it would be a two way street as well when the time came for him to hurt Sam.

He had to. There were no more options left.

Sam growled as Gabriel blocked him, catching his other hand and twisting it back before using the movement to bring his leg up behind the archangel's calves, sending him toppling backwards as he tried to dodge Sam's attack.

Gabriel huffed in surprised as he found himself suddenly sprawled across the stone ground, water pooled around him and Sam kneeling over him, breathing hard and glaring down at him with utter fury in his eyes. "There you go," he exhaled slowly, a shaky smile wavering on his features as he stared up at the Hunter.

The dark haired man narrowed his eyes still further, his hands splayed across the ground on either side of Gabriel's shoulders, wing feathers brushing against his fingers and stretching all the way down to his ankles. "Why are you trying to get me to hurt you, Gabe?" he hissed, "What possible reasoning could you have behind it?"

"That's none of your business," Gabriel stated evenly, though he could tell by the look on Sam's face he was about to make it his business anyways. Fuck.

Sam's shoulders shook as he breathed in, long and slow in a manner Gabriel knew all too well as someone trying to control their temper. "You said we're supposed to be in this together. So it is my business, Gabriel. If it's something I did then I . . ."

The archangel blanched, raising a hand instinctively to touch the side of Sam's face, "Hey, no, it's not you. God, it's not you. It's my fault and mine alone, all right? Don't blame yourself."

The Hunter blinked, "Wha . . . What are you talking about?" His stomach clenched in fear around the words. Something was wrong.

Gabriel closed his eyes, looking away, "I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry . . ."

"Gabe-"

"I've been lying to you!" Sam reeled back slightly, as though slapped in the face, and Gabriel flinched. "I lied to you, Sam! It's going to take years, tens, maybe hundreds of fucking years to make it out of here and unless I do something, you're going to die before even one full year passes in Hell. The human body can't _take_ a place like this."

Sam stiffened, clenching his teeth. He imagined Dean, kneeling on the unbroken ground of Stull Cemetery, waiting for some miracle that would now never happen. "You-" He wanted to hit him, to scream at him for giving him false hope and making him believe that he'd get to see his brother again. But he paused, latching on to one particular part of Gabriel's outburst, "Unless you do something?" he asked, feeling a faint spark of hope flare in his chest.

The Trickster bit his lip, "I can't, Sammy. It's not going to work, there's not enough time left and I-"

A hand covered Gabriel's mouth and his words were cut off, muffled against Sam's palm. "Gabriel, just get to the point. What is that you have to do?"

Gabriel's breath hitched as Sam removed his hand, and he raised his own to cover the mark he knew was hidden just beneath the Hunter's clothes across his sternum, the image of his fingers branded into white skin. "This. You know what this is, don't you? Your brother has one too. I can eventually fade, and right now, it's probably the only thing keeping you alive. It remains there as long as my Grace is connected to you, and that you accept it. When I've been healing you, I give you a bit of my Grace, but it's not enough. It's not . . . Physical enough to make much of a difference. If I could give you more Grace, you'd have a better chance of making it out of here."

Sam stared at him for a long moment, "You mean . . ."

The archangel tried to smile, but he knew it would look as false as it felt, "Do it like they do on the discovery channel? Yes. It's either that, or blood. And I can't make you do either." He bit his lip as Sam instinctively shuddered at the second suggestion. No, he could never make him do that.

For a long moment, neither moved, Sam's eyes half closed in that thinking way he often lapsed into, Gabriel's hands still resting on his chest as the rain pelted down on them, soaking through their clothes. So it was that the angel found himself wholly surprised when Sam started to laugh.

The sound was glorious, echoing across Hell in a way that made Gabriel's very being spark from head to toe. Nothing so beautiful could have ever been hear in a place such as this before, it just wasn't possible. Sam's whole frame shook as he laughed, his forehead touching Gabriel's as he bent double over him. "You're such a idiot," he finally managed to chuckle.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, "What's that supposed to mean, Winchester?" His hands fisted in the dripping wet folds of Sam's shirt as the Hunter suddenly leaned towards him, breath leaving him entirely as their lips locked, "Wha-"

"You," Sam repeated, "Are an idiot. I like you, Gabriel. I like you a lot. And you said there's still some time left," he paused as Gabriel nodded slowly, "So we don't have to jump into anything right away, all right?"

The archangel could only stare blankly up at him, shocked for what must have been minutes before he surged upwards, kissing Sam hard and bringing the Hunter down to him once more. Sam made a little surprised sound in the back of his throat but allowed it. After a moment that was much too short, Gabriel drew back, "Wait, wait, let me try something, okay?" Before Sam could protest, the angel used his superior god-given strength to reverse their positions, smirking as Sam shivered as his back hit the wet ground. His wings arched up over his head, shielding them from the worst of the rain as Gabriel tugged the Hunter's shirt up over his head, watching with satisfaction as Sam stuttered and blushed, "Don't look at me like that kiddo, I'm not going to jump ya' . . . Today," he amended after a second's thought. "I just wanna see if I can buy us some more time."

Slowly, the former Tricsker placed his hand over the brand on Sam's chest, aligning his fingers with their crimson imprints, making a shushing noise as Sam opened his mouth to speak. "One sec, one sec," he urged, making sure his hand completely covered every tiny piece of the mark before h leaned down, capturing Sam's lips against his own once more.

It was like a spark of pure electricity that passed through them, mimicking the lighting that crackled through the air overhead as Sam's back arched from the touch, Gabriel's fingers pulsing with the crystal blue glow of his Grace as it flowed into the Hunter. The archangel let out an elated laugh of success, nibbling at Sam's bottom lip as he kissed him. Yes, even with just this much contact, he could feed more Grace into the other.

There might just be hope yet.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

_For the first time since he'd jumped into Hell, Sam dreamed. _

_He knew he was dreaming because somewhere in the back of his mind, he could still feel Gabriel's arms and wings tangled around him, the flutter of warm breath across his face as the angel watched over him while he slept. But now, it seemed so far away, and it was almost as though he had to force himself to remember that that was where he really was._

_Above his head a streetlight flickered once, twice, before popping softly and dimming the dark night air around him, veiling him in shadow. He frowned slightly, his eyes glazing over for a moment before he raised them, staring out across black pavement and freshly mowed lawn until his gazed rested on a single lit window on the face of an all too perfect house._

_Inside, a boy sat with his back to the Hunter, a mother leaned over him, dishing up some green beans onto his plate, and across from the child sat . . ._

_Sam's breath caught in his throat, ragged with disbelief. In the chair, head bent over his food and his eyebrows furrowed with a worry that most likely didn't pertain to the setting at hand. For a moment, the woman rested a hand on his shoulder and he smiled, a wavering curve of the lips that Sam knew instantly was all too fake. _

_Just as this dream was all too real. He bit his lip, looking down at the sidewalk and then at himself, studying his hands and the way they seemed so solid. As false as any spirits' hands. _

_He almost wished Dean would look up, and he raised his eyes to the window again with a shudder. And to his surprise, for a brief moment in time, Dean glanced to the glass, green eyes meeting that of equal color._

_A second later, and Sam was gone._

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

Two words. Midterms. Suck.

Anyways, sorry this took so long. I've kinda been in this pathetic rut of fangirling about . . . *looks away* iCarly . . . I'm sorry, Supernatural is being all Angst!Sammy and it bums me out, I need happy doses.

About this chapter: Yay, Kisses fo u. it took me six or seven tries to get this scene to sound right, another reason it took so long. You also finally get the explanation of why Sam's been sleeping so long. He's kinda . . . Dying. To say the least. And we get the first dream sequence! As you may guess, these will become stronger the more Grace Sammy gets from Dean.

ANYWHO, want me to update faster? Yes? Then I want two things.

Vampire!Dean/Cass fics. Lots of them. Only good thing to come out of that ep.

Gabriel/Blind!Sam fics. I have a weird fetish for these, okay? And I'm all out. Preferably temp blindness and/or post s5 blindness as a side affect of having Luci in him, and Gabriel takes care of him. Smut pleaz.

These will inspire me to write faster. So please give. Love and thankies!


	12. Chapter 12

**Crossing The Inferno: Of All The Things I Still Remember**

_Gabriel sat back on the stool that first morning in what would be one of many identical Tuesday mornings, glancing over his shoulder at the pair that had just entered the small diner with a surprised start. His guise for his current round of tricks was already firmly in place for the day, but he couldn't help giving himself a once over in the reflection in the unused spoon beside his half eaten plate of pancakes overly doused in maple syrup. Making sure he looked nothing like he had over a year ago, he looked up once more, taking in the stock of the two Hunters seated at a booth beside the window._

_He couldn't help smiling to himself. Dean was kicked back against the plush but well worn cushion of the booth, his eyes on the menu board above Gabriel's head. Across from him, Sam sat, his hands raised slightly as he tried to explain their newest case to his brother, who was obviously not listening in the slightest. The archangel stuck a piece of pancake in his mouth and chewed, taking in every small detail._

_Sam had almost all but gotten rid of his bangs, sweeping what was left of them to the sides of his face, his hair in general over an inch longer than it had been since Gabriel had last been in his presence. Though his voice was stern as he lectured his brother on ordering items off the menu when he didn't even know what they consisted of, his shoulders were slack with held back amusement, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His dark green, hazel tinted eyes however flashed with hints of a grief, and Gabriel frowned, having to take a second look at Dean to understand why._

_The older Winchester brother's soul was marked, a timer that was slowly ticking down the days, hours, minutes, until it was pulled into the depths of Hell. Gabriel sighed softly to himself, tearing his gaze away with a shudder._

_Just as the hands of time wound down on Dean's life, so too did they on that of humanity in general. Dean being dragged down into Hell would be step one in the final countdown till the ultimate end._

_Gabriel had seen what would happen, just as he was able to see all things a certain ways into the future. Glancing back, he took in the simmering darkness that roiled behind Sam's eyes, dulled immensely since their encounter at the college, since Azazel's death, but there all the same. It would only take a drop or two of demon blood, just a taste, and that shadow would increase, like a light switch being turned on after waiting since it's installation to activate. The archangel swallowed, closing his eyes in an effort to wipe the sight from his mind, to little avail. _

_Fate had already been carved out for the Winchesters, and all the pawns of destiny had been set in place, awaiting their orders to move. There was nothing that could be done._

_The Trickster opened his eyes as the waitress dropped a bottle of hot sauce, splattering the ground with it contents orange-red and not too unsimilar to blood. Gabriel's nose wrinkled, and he raised his line of sight to the brother's again, taking in their expressions in that moment. They were carefree on the outside, smiling and laughing with each other as they always had, the inner sadness well concealed._

_No, the pawns were __**not **__all in place, Father be damned. Gabriel hadn't lifted a finger when Joan of Arc was burned at the stake, believing it to be long written out fate. Words could always be erased, smudged, and rewritten with a different ending. No one would expect him to interfere, he was the knight, moving in from the side, unexpected and game changing no matter how small the act._

_Gabriel snapped his fingers, the Winchesters taking no notice of the invisible shift of air and reality. If Sam could see the future, even a faked one as Gabriel could create it, things might change. They would at the very least possess the potential for change. He would give Sam the chance to glimpse the mindless thing he would become, and maybe, just maybe he could create a new path for the brothers. One that veered straight off that of what should have been unchangeable, and was ruled by nothing but free will and their own choices, for better or for worse._

The archangel shifted where he lay, stretching his wings out behind him with a habitual yawn, dark feathers brushing against the ground. Sam was asleep on his stomach beside him, cushioned by the nest of blankets that Gabriel always procured, Bela resting on his other side with her gaze trained on the landscape of Hell, always watchful. Humming to himself, Gabriel began to lazily trace the map of Hell etched across Sam's bare back, making long winding strokes across broad shoulders and allowing his fingers to dance back down across the Hunter's spine without fear that the other would wake. Although Sam's sleep habits had begun to shorten in time since Gabriel had started transferring small bits of his Grace to him, he still remained completely unconscious for the most part.

Bela turned her eyes to the angel for a moment, watching his movements with glazed demon-dark eyes before she spoke, "He still sleeps for far too long."

"I know," Gabriel said quietly, "But even if I do fully bond with him, that won't change. As it was his record was being out for a little over a week, now we're down to just over 72 hours."

"It's still too long," Bela muttered, looking out over the rocky ground once more.

"I know," the angel replied, "But for now that's the way it has to be, understand?" The Hellhound growled in response, but lowered her head in compliance. He sighed, continuing to sketch out invisible doodles on Sam's back, he had nothing else to do until the Hunter woke up anyways, might as well amuse himself.

After a minute or two he felt Sam stir under his touch, a soft breath of laughter escaping the Hunter as his eyes flickered open, blinking back sleep. "What are you doing?"

"Being bored," Gabriel murmured, leaning down to place a kiss between Sam's shoulder blades, watching with mild amusement as the other flushed bright red. "Did you have any more of those dreams?"

Sam rolled over, staring up at Gabriel as he thought, "I don't think so. I just had that one, but that was a few weeks ago. I haven't dreamed at all since them," he drew off, raising an eyebrow at the angel questioningly.

"Don't look at me like that," Gabriel snorted, "I may be an archangel but I don't have all the answers. If I did I wouldn't have died in the first place, comprende?" He shrugged as Sam gave him one of those guilty/hurt puppy looks, and began to trace out the outline of his handprint across the Hunter's sternum, "Just make sure you tell me if you dream again, about anything at all, all right?"

"Okay," Sam smiled. He knew it should seem strange to him how easily he'd fallen into these patterns with Gabriel, waking up to see him and being unable to _not_ smile would be impossible. It should have been more difficult, he knew that deep down, and he knew it would get more difficult in the future. But for now he was simply content to wake and find someone watching over him. Reaching up he tangled his fingers in the back of the archangel's hair, dragging him down for a kiss.

Gabriel blinked in utter surprise, allowing himself to be maneuvered down. Though it had been almost a month since the incident in the rain, he had refrained from kissing Sam, much to Bela's annoyance. She just didn't understand that he refused to push Sam with this issue in any way shape or form. That and Gabriel was starting to wonder if she just wanted to watch them make out. Fantastic. Pulling back a bit so that their foreheads just barely brushed he whispered, "What are you doing?"

Sam frowned slightly, "I can't kiss you?" Sam asked, tilting his head to the side just so, making Gabriel groan internally at how utterly adorable he looked.

"Of course you can," the angel reassured with a sigh, "I just . . . I don't want you to feel like you have to . . ."

The Hunter chuckled, "You're not, Gabe. Now kiss me like you mean it or I'm going to be very upset," he stuck out his lower lip and Gabriel completely melted.

Sam tugged at him and Gabriel shifted so that he was straddling the Hunter's hips, his wings tickling along Sam's feet as he leaned down and kissed the other. The angel's hands skimmed across the mark on the Hunter's chest, the pads of his fingers aligning with it and digging into the burn as he deepened the kiss. Sam groaned and arched up into the touch as the white-blue glow of Grace began seeping into his skin from Gabriel's hand, warm and pulsing. "Gabe," he gasped, squirming at the feeling.

"Hmmm," Gabriel hummed in reply, keeping one hand on the mark and letting his other trail lower, continuing the dance across skin he had started while Sam was still asleep. He paused as he moved to kiss the side of Sam's neck, sensing and almost overwhelming ache of loneliness spark from the other. "You're not alone, Sam," he murmured against the younger Winchester's skin.

"_Sam, you're not alone."_

Sam stiffened suddenly, his hands tightening where they'd been against Gabriel's shoulders. "Stop," he breathed.

Startled, Gabriel drew back, rolling off the Hunter to sit at his side, the hand that had been pressed firmly over the mark on his chest slowly sliding away. "What's wrong?

"_What's wrong?"_

"You're the one who wanted this."

A strangled noise escaped Sam and he sat up with an apologetic look, "I know, I just . . . When you said that it reminded me of something, something bad."

Gabriel frowned, reaching out to touch the other's shoulder reassuringly, alarmed as Sam shied away before he could make contact. "Sammy . . ."

"Look, it's nothing, okay? I swear," Sam whispered.

The archangel looked away, shaking his head, "No, I get it. It's not as if you would be able to trust me after the stuff I did to you in the past and-"

Sam whirled, grasping Gabriel's wrist with shaking fingers and making the angel start, "No! It's not that, okay? It's not," He shook his head, "Although, yeah, we're going to have to talk about that someday. But that's not why I-" Sam's breath hitched slightly and he glanced at the ground in shame, "I just . . . The last time I put all my faith in someone, I kinda started the apocalypse."

Gabriel blinked, "Ruby?" he whispered, "This is about Ruby?" Sam nodded mutely, "Oh, God, Sammy . . . This is _nothing_ like that, all right? She used you." he groaned as the Hunter cast him a disbelieving look, "Oh . . ."

It wasn't as if he'd forgotten, of course he hadn't, but he didn't expect Sam to remember his words on that first day in Hell.

"_You're my ticket out of here."_

The angel lowered his gaze with a sigh. He couldn't take back the words, just as he couldn't admit that he had lied to Sam in saying them. Hesitantly, he laid a hand on Sam's shoulder, relief coursing through him when the Hunter didn't pull away, "You know I'd never do that, Sammy." He squeezed and Sam shivered, "Sammy, come on, look at me."

Sam glanced at him with glazed eyes, and Gabriel tried to smile, "I'm not like Ruby," he promised softly. "Sammy, I'm not, I swear. I've been watching over you for longer than you know and I . . ." He swallowed, "I would never, _ever_ betray you like that."

The Hunter lowered his eyes again, "And you won't leave me?" he whispered, almost inaudibly.

Gabriel swallowed, "No, Sammy. Never. I'll always be at your side." He couldn't deny that hopeful puppy look Sam cast him, that hesitant spark of trust in his green eyes.

More than anything, Gabriel hated the false promises he so easily let slip from his lips, promises he knew long ago he'd never be able to keep.

Bela looked at him from around Sam's other side, her tail close to the ground as she stood and padded a few feet away. Gabriel didn't need her to confirm what he already knew, though he was grateful she was still keeping it a secret from Sam. After all, it was better for the kid to live on false promises than drown in reality.

"Come on," Gabriel said suddenly, doing a 360 in his mind away from such matters, "Let's see that map."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The seventh circle was indescribably vast, Sam could tell the moment he set foot on it's burning sand. For almost eight months the landscape had been nothing but jagged rock and stone, and the softness of the grains underfoot made him gasp with surprised relief. Gabriel watched with faint amusement as the Hunter sunk to his knees, digging his fingers into the sand with a childish smile, a laugh bubbling in his throat. "I'm glad you're so amused," the archangel said sarcastically.

Sam grinned up at him, reaching up and snagging one of the archangel's wings, pulling him down beside him and ignoring the huff of protest. "This just means we're getting closer and closer to finding a way out of here!"

Gabriel smiled, though he felt no need to confirm such a thing, nor deny it. "The seventh ring is one of the largest," he commented instead, gazing out towards the horizon. Fire danced across the rolling dunes in the distance, and the dark clouds that could just barely be made out would not contain rain as the last storm had.

"It rains nothing but fire here," Bela said dryly, causing Gabriel to glare at her pointedly. She merely bared her teeth in response, clearly disliking the idea of sheltering Sam from the truth.

"Storms eventually blow over though," Sam added, tangling his fingers into her fur.

_Sam was incapable of accepting the inevitable, especially when it came to his brother. Gabriel watched for countless Tuesdays as the Hunter refused to give up, trying everything he could think of to stop Dean's death, a task that was literally impossible as the Trickster could simply look into his mind and figure out an appropriate counter to whatever Sam thought up that Tuesday._

_He wasn't surprised when Sam caught him, after all he had changed his syrup preference on purpose, having long ago grown bored with the game. Still, it hurt to see the utter hatred in Sam's eyes as he was slammed against the chain-link fence, the Hunter's hand pinning him there with a stake pressed to his throat. More than anything, it scared him. He wasn't afraid for his life, Father no, that stake was nothing to him. But that dark glint that roiled in Sam's eyes, that scared him more than anything. It was demon blood still untapped in his veins and Lucifer's touch all rolled into one, a darkness in his gaze that Gabriel felt was all too familiar._

_So he let Sam have the illusion that he was out of the time loop, watching from not far away as Dean Winchester died one last time and tipped Sam over the edge as he realized that this time there was no waking up. _

"_You're right. I was just screwing with you," Gabriel drawled, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Pretty good, though, Sam. Smart. Let me tell you, whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands. Holy Full Metal Jacket," The Trickster waggled his eyebrows in amusement._

"_Bring him back . . ." Sam didn't even move. Gabriel had half expected to find a stake protruding from his chest by now, but the Hunter merely squared his shoulders and stared at the archangel in disguise._

_Gabriel blinked, "Who, Dean? Didn't my girl send you flowers? Dean's dead. He ain't coming back. His soul's downstairs doing the hellfire rumba as we speak." He shuffled his feet as if to demonstrate._

"_Just take us back to that Tuesday—er, Wednesday—when it all started," Sam pleaded, so soft Gabriel could barely hear him. The archangel raised his eyes hesitantly, breath catching in his throat as he saw the tears welling in the younger Winchester's eyes. "Please. We won't come after you, I swear," Sa whispered, taking a step closer, his hands held forward in surrender, palms facing up._

_The Trickster shuddered, looking away again. He couldn't do this anymore, hurting Sam like this. And even though that darkness hadn't faded from his eyes, he just couldn't play this game anymore. It wasn't worth it if he had to se that hopeless, desperate look in the human's eyes. "You swear," he said, his voice as cold as he could muster._

"_Yes," Sam gasped, a spark of hope in his gaze. Gabriel wished that damned word had never been invented, the word that would one day seal the deal and allow Lucifer free reign of the Hunter's body._

"_I don't' know. Even if I could-" _

"_You can," Sam interrupted, hands clenched in the folds of his shirt as he stared at Gabriel, voice dripping with desperation. "True," Gabriel admitted, tilting his head to the side as he used aloud, "But that don't mean I should. Sam, there's a lesson here that I've been trying to drill into that freakish Cro-Magnon skull of yours." __**You're too codependent, too fragile and easily influenced. **_

_Sam stared, shocked, "Lesson? What lesson?"_

"_This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other?" He bared his teeth, feeling his invisible wings flex behind him, "Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam." That. That was what he never wanted to see, not again. And not by his brother's hand. "Sometimes you just gotta let people go."_

"_He's my brother," Sam whispered, the tears literally almost spilling over from the corners of his eyes now. Gabriel just couldn't take it._

_The Trickster snorted, "Yup. And like it or not, this is what life's gonna be like without him." With a revenge ethic and a shit ton of demon blood mixed it, and oh, maybe the begging of the freakin' apocalypse. "Please. Just-" Sam's voice wavered and Gabriel looked away, "-Please."_

"_I swear, it's like talking to a brick wall. Okay, look. This all stopped being fun months ago. You're Travis Bickle in a skirt, pal. I'm over it." He shoved his hands in his pockets, staring deliberately at the wall as if to make a point before his gaze flicked back to Sam._

_Sam stiffened, "Meaning what?"_

_Gabriel frowned, "Meaning that's for me to know and you to find out," he snapped his fingers, watching as the world shifted away back to that first Wednesday over six months ago._

_He was done with helping, Father be damned. Let things happen as written, he didn't care anymore. If the world ended then so too would he._

_Maybe then it wouldn't hurt this bad to watch Sam fall._

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

Soooo . . . Yup. Lotsa flashbackness of the Mystery Spot ep. :D

I'm really hopin the Gabe mention in one of the earlier eps of s6 means he's coming back soon. Hazah. On that note, NO, this will not be cannon with season 6. At all. I might say, "Profound Bond" just for my own amusement, but nope. Not at all. O 3o

On another note, I have signed up for the Gabriel Big Bang. So if any of you are epic artists and wanna work with me, sign up! There's still a few days left! DO IT. Or sign up to write fanfic! :D more Gabe/Sam in the world please.

Anywho . . . Had to dig out the research for this chapter again. Yay for circle seven! :] they'll be in the seventh circle for the next two chapters.

Next chapter . . . A little thing I like to call a "Trust Exercise" and some more dreams for Sam, as well as a first appearance from someone I've been waiting oh so patiently to add in. GUESS. Do it. Now.


	13. Chapter 13

**Crossing The Inferno: Take A Chance, Don't Ever Look Back**

*curls up in a ball and dies* Want to know why this chapter took so long? Guess.

_For the second time since he'd fallen into Hell, Sam dreamed._

_He was standing before a dock, the gaps between it's wooden slats wide and slightly uneven. Sam toed at the dirt he stood on, eyeing the structure that seemed to shift in the lake water uneasily. The lake itself was watercolored an autumn gold, the leaves that drifted down into it from the trees almost identical in shade. His eyes slowly drifted across the length of the dock, resting on the edge of it, breath catching in his throat._

_**Dean**__. His brother was sprawled out across the end of the dock on his stomach, his arms hanging over the edge and his fingertips skimming the surface of the water. Sam smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets, perfectly content to watch from a distance. Dean continued to trace the ripples on the water with his fingers, oblivious to the eyes on him. It wasn't until a few minutes later that Sam noticed he was trying to catch something, a splash of white ivory that flitted across the gold water just out of his brother's reach. Straining as far as he could without falling in, Dean's hand closed around the thing and he scrambled back from the edge, sitting down and cradling it against his chest. _

_Sam bit his lip as he noticed what it was, a feather of the purest white, glinting in the setting sun as before Dean closed his fingers around it, casting a glance at the sky as if waiting for some answer that would never come. The younger Winchester swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment before he took a step forward, the sound of his shoes on the wood of the dock echoing across the lake._

_Dean whirled, feather stuffed into the folds of his leather jacket as he faced his brother. His eyes were wary but he did not move as Sam slowly paced forward, merely looking away as the younger came to stand before him. "I'm dreaming," he whispered suddenly, shaking his head._

"_Probably," Sam admitted softly, "Otherwise I doubt you'd be able to see or hear me."_

_At this, Dean looked up at him in confusion, "What's that supposed to mean? I can always see you in my dreams, Sammy. That's the only place you exist anymore." He shrugged, a long roll of the shoulders as if he didn't care. A lie._

_Sam snorted, "Then maybe this isn't a dream," he mused, "Maybe it's reality. But either way, I'm not . . . I'm not just an illusion made by your subconscious, Dean. This is my dream. If anything, you're the fake one here."_

_Dean laughed, the sound quiet and forced, "Well that's a new one, whatever floats your boat Sammy." He extended a hand, as if to pat his brother on the shoulder, but Sam flinched back._

"_Don't," Sam started, "Don't touch me. I . . ." He shuddered at the hurt and confused look in his older brother's eyes at the words, "I feel like if you touch me, the dream will end and I'll wake up. I don't . . . I don't want to go back yet."_

"_Go back?" Dean cocked his head, uncomprehending, "Go back where?"_

_Sam merely directed his gaze at the ground beneath his feet and Dean stiffened, a soundless "Oh" forming on his lips. He ducked his head down and moved closer, forcing Sam to meet his eyes, "Yeah, I get that. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."_

_His brother smiled, the expression surprisingly real so much so that Dean took a step back, startled. "Can we sit?" Sam gestured to the edge of the dock before moving towards it himself, pulling off his shoes as he went so that he could dangle his feet in the water. Dean followed suit, watching him in that overprotective way, and Sam couldn't help feeling safe, though he knew it was only a dream. "Scared I'll fall in?" he teased._

"_You did get dragged under by a kelpie when you were nine," Dean reminded sourly, dipping his own feet in the water with a content sigh. "Talk to me, Sammy," he begged, closing his eyes and falling back against the wooden slats, stretching his arms up towards the sky almost as if he planned to touch it._

_Sam lay back, smiling slightly at the action, "What do you want me to say?"_

"_Anything," Dean murmured._

_For a moment Sam let his thoughts stew, unsure of what he could tell his brother. He could bring up past happy memories, hunts long ago accomplished and the people they'd saved. But somehow, that didn't seem appropriate. "I'm doing okay," he said finally, "I'm going to get out."_

"_Of Hell?"_

"_Yeah," Sam rolled over onto his stomach, folding his arms under his chin so that he could look at his brother properly, watching as Dean continued to reach towards the clouds, eyes closed. "It's not as bad as I thought it would be," he continued, "But it's going to take me a long time." He grew quiet again, closing his eyes as well for a long moment, happy to simply lay in his brother's company._

_When he opened them again Dean had withdrawn the feather from his jacket and was holding it up to the fading light of the sun, watching it glint off the pure white color with a soft, sad smile on his face. "I kept expecting him to come back," he said slowly, as if testing the words out for the first time, and he probably was. Sam had always been one of, if not the only, person he confided anything in. "I waited and waited for him to come back that first night, the second too. But nothing happened."_

_Sam blinked, "Maybe he's waiting for you to ask him to come back," he said, "Maybe he wants to be called back, he is an angel after all."_

"_No, he's a dick," Dean growled, "If he wanted to stay why didn't he just stay! I-" he swallowed, "I took his Grace from him, Sammy. It was because of me that he Fell. I couldn't ask him to stay, that would be the most selfish thing I've ever done." He shook his head, "Ah, what am I doing, spilling my heart out to an illusion conjured up by my, probably very drunk, mind?"_

"_You're the illusion," Sam muttered._

_Dean twisted his head to the side to study his brother at this, silent for far longer than what would have been comfortable for anyone but them. "If we both think that then maybe we're both real?" he narrowed his eyes disbelievingly, the idea clearly too much for him to handle._

"_Soulmates are said to be able to share dreams," Sam said nonchalantly, "It's not like we haven't before."_

_Dean glowered at the term but seemed to think about it, "You make it sound so sappy."_

_Sam chuckled, "Soulmates don't have to be lovers, Dean. Good lord, don't turn this into Becky's lifelong dream come true." He laughed as Dean made a face at the memory of some of the things the girl had forced them to see at her convention. "But the point is that I'm real, and you say you're real so . . ." He faltered, looking to his brother for support._

"_So you're going to get out," Dean said offhandedly, bringing the topic full circle._

"_Yeah," Sam smiled before taking on an almost inaudible, "Jerk."_

_Dean's eyes widened momentarily before he closed them, sucking in a shaky breath before he murmured, "Bitch," in reply. _

"_Will you wait for me?" Sam asked._

_The older Winchester snorted, as if offended by the chick-flick quality of the question, "As if I wouldn't," he muttered, reaching over and curling a hand around his brother's._

_Sam laughed in relief, and it was the last sound Dean heard before he vanished, his hand disappearing from under his brother's almost the moment they connected._

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, allowing himself to be pushed onto his back across the warm sand, Gabriel straddling his waist.

"Tell you in a bit, babe, just relax," Gabriel smiled, pushing his hands up underneath the hoodie the human was currently wearing, up and over his head before tossing it aside. Somewhere off to his right, Bela gave a short, annoyed bark as the article of clothing kicked up a bit of sand towards her, "Hey, go . . . Patrol the are or something, okay?" he growled, waving her away, "I don't need a peeping pup looking at this."

Bela snorted, baring her teeth before stalking off, Sam watching her go apprehensively. "Um, Gabe?" Sam spoke up again, "What are you doing?"

Gabriel shook his head, placing a gentle kiss on the Hunter's forehead, "Shhh, Sammy. Trust me, okay? I want you to trust me." He fingered Sam's belt, watching him flinch, "Don't worry, I won't touch you anywhere you don't want to be touched. Ever." He swallowed, knowing he'd keep that promise, even if it meant Sam's death. He'd betrayed his trust and hurt him too many times before. Not this time. "It's just a little exercise today, kiddo. Can you give me enough trust for this? Please?"

Sam leaned back, allowing himself to loosen his muscles as much as possible, relaxing into the sand, "Yeah, I can try."

"Don't try," Gabriel urged, stretching out his dark wings over them, "Do." He moved a hand, covering the Hunter's eyes, "Keep them closed," he murmured, kissing the side of Sam's neck and watching with mild satisfaction as he shivered bodily. "Show me how much you trust me by following orders. Blindly."

"Literally or figuratively?" Sam chuckled, Gabriel's breath ghosting down his sternum as the archangel kissed a path from nape to navel.

"Both of course," Gabriel smirked, Sam huffing as he felt the expression against the expanse of his skin. "Now hold your breath," the angel whispered, waiting until Sam complied before he moved again. Sitting up, the Trickster withdrew a small, thin silver incomplete circlet from his pocket, examining it in the eerie glow of Hell. The ends of it, unattached to each other with a breath of air between were pointed and sharp, hot to the touch. They needed to be, in the disease infested wastelands of the underworld.

Sam bit his lip as Gabriel suddenly grabbed his wrists, pinning them above his head, and he couldn't help but be mildly surprised at how far the short angel could stretch. "Flexible, aren't you?" he teased.

"Oh, I'm very bendy," Gabriel grinned, wiggling his eyebrows though he could see Sam still obediently had his eyes shut tight. Slowly, carefully, he pressed the edges of the ring against the edge of the Hunter's navel, waiting, breathing, until Sam seemed to sense his hesitation and held his breath again.

The Hunter's head slammed back into the sand, breath escaping him in a startled, pained cry. A prick, a stab of soreness across his navel and then it was gone, not even close to the worst of what Sam had felt. "You can open your eyes now," Gabriel whispered near his ear, sounding pleased with himself.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Sam peered down at himself, the archangel sliding down his body so he could see. The thin band was looped into his skin, a single streak off blood from the place it had gone through flesh that Gabriel quickly wiped away, smiling to himself. "A bellybutton ring?" he said skeptically, laughing to himself when the smug look on Gabriel's face vanished.

"It's cooler than that," the archangel pouted, crossing his arms, look closer."

"Gabe," Sam said evenly, trying to stifle his laughter, "I'm not a contortionist, I can't bend that far down to stare at it."

Gabriel shook his head, tracing a finger over the cool metal, "There's Enochian carved into it," he murmured. "It . . . It's kinda hard to see if your eyes aren't sharp."

"What's it say?"

"Property of Gabriel," the archangel smirked, watching the mortified look spread across Sam's face, "Just kidding. But it does say Gabriel," he amended.

"No 'Property of?'" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Nope, but just my name on your person is enough to say that," he tapped the circlet, "Now everyone with half a brain will know not to touch you. And it looks pretty smoking too."

Sam chuckled, "You have a thing for piercings?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes, hiking his shirt up and exposing his chest and a ring on his right nipple, "Hell yeah bucko. And I used to have a lot more in the eighties. Decided to look more professional this century though." He smiled as Sam burst into a fit of laughter, clutching at his sides as Gabriel rolled off of him, watching in amusement.

Getting a hold of himself and reigning in his amusement, Sam patted the sand beside him, watching as Gabriel, looking faintly surprised, moved to sit at his side again. The Hunter smiled, tugging the angel down to him, their lips crashing together. Gabriel, startled, fumbled for a minute, finding a grip on Sam's shoulders as he deepened the kiss, biting down on the human's lower lip. It was rough, but Gabriel's figurative heart leapt in his chest when Sam didn't pull away. Sam's fingers tangled in his hair, trailing down his neck after a heartbeat and down to his shoulder blades, finding the base of his wings.

The archangel jerked back at the touch, breathing heavily as he broke contact. Sam blinked up at him, shocked, "Wha-"

"Yeah, uh . . ." Gabriel looked away, "Before you do something you'll regret I'll just warn you to be careful what you touch, okay?"

Sam stared, reaching up a hand towards the mass of feathers again, watching as Gabriel tried to draw away not quite fast enough and the Hunter buried his fingers in the soft down amongst the lower secondaries. Gabriel shuddered. "Oh . . ." Sam couldn't help the wide grin that spread across his face, "Your wings are an erogenous zone!" he exclaimed, almost too gleefully for the angel's liking.

"N-"

"They are!" Sam laughed, "Oh man, wait till I tell Dean, this is hysterical!"

"You will not tell your pig headed brother any such thing," Gabriel hissed, nose to nose with the Hunter again.

"Or what?" Sam provoked.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, placing a chaste kiss on the other's lips, "Or no Gabriel kisses for you."

"You say that as though it's a form of immense torture," Sam snickered.

"It is," Gabriel warned, though the light in his eyes defused the serious tone in his speech. "How will you ever survive without my kisses?" "I will lock myself in a closet and never come out, it will depress me so," Sam sighed mockingly.

"You can't go back into the closet, Sammy."

Sam huffed, rolling over and pinning the archangel beneath him in a flurry of laughter and feathers, "You can't, but I can if I feel like it you bastard."

"Too late!" Gabriel said in a sing-song voice, squealing as Sam dug his nails into his ribs.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

_Sam ran the holy water soaked cloth over the barrel of the handgun he was holding, holding it with as much care as he cleaned it as one would when carrying a small child. "We always clean the weapons with holy water," the Hunter explained, raising his eyes, "Just a precaution."_

"_Oh, yeah, I get it."_

_He shifted to the end of the bed, reaching into the duffle on the floor and withdrawing what looked to be a long, thick knife that glistened in the dim motel light. "This one is for shape shifters and the like," he said coolly, "Pure silver."_

"_May I?"_

_Sam passed the thing over, watching as inexperienced hands touched all along it's form, drawing back from the blade as skin was nicked, blood tricking from uncalloused fingertips. _

"_Ah-"_

"_Let me see," Sam held out his hands, waiting until the smaller ones were willingly placed against his, palms up so that he could examine the little cuts across the index and middle finger on the left. "Clumsy, aren't we," he smiled, reaching for the duffle again and emerging with a box of simple Band-Aids._

"_Y-you don't have to-"_

_Sam smiled, the expression spreading even to his eyes, completely genuine, "It's no problem. When I was little my brother used to do this for me, even if it was just a paper cut. I want to do the same for you."_

"_I'm not a little kid . . ."_

"_But you are my little brother," Sam insisted, wrapping the first Band-Aid over the thin trail of blood._

_Adam nodded, staring at the comforter on the musty motel bed, embarrassed but pleased. Brother. They were brothers._

"Why do you insist on living in this dream world, Adam."

Adam narrowed his eyes, ignoring the voice and biting his lip. Sam continued to cover the second cut, jokingly asking if he should kiss it better too, to which the younger punched him gently in the arm. _Let me be_.

"This is nothing but a fabled illusion in your mind, foolish child."

"As if it bothers you," Adam whispered to himself, shaking his head as Sam glanced at him, confused. "Continue your prance around Hell, Michael. Let me have my illusion."

Michael's voice was sharp, annoyed, "That's all it will ever be, Adam. You imagine him to be your family, his brother as well. You were nothing to them."

"I was their brother," Adam muttered, smiling as Sam buried a hand in his hair, digging his knuckles into his skull. Yes, that was exactly what he had been, their little brother. "Sam," he whispered, ignoring Michael as the archangel continued to berate him, "We're brothers . . . Right?"

Sam blinked, drawing his hand away and resting it on Adam's shoulder instead, "Of course," he murmured, "Why do you ask?"

Adam shook his head, plastering on a fake smile for this equally fake Sam built on memories and imagination, "No reason," He pulled Sam's hand from his shoulder, tracing the lifelines on his palm absently, "Just . . . Promise me something, okay?" He glanced up, watching Sam nod. Of course he'd nod, he was a figment of Adam's mind, nothing more or less. He'd do whatever he asked within the confines of fantasy. "I know . . . I know you're not real," he whispered, pausing in his movements across Sam's palm, "But . . . If there's any way that you can hear me, please . . ."

"He can't hear you," Michael practically cooed.

"Sam . . . Please. I can't . . . I never wanted this and I know I was stupid, but I can't . . . Sam if I'm here much longer, trapped with this bastard-" Michael snorted in the corners of his mind, "I'll die."

"Whither away and die," Michael sounded rather pleased with the idea. "And then I won't have to listen to you whine."

Adam pressed his face into his palms, knowing that even if he looked the Sam of his mind would be frozen in time with no answer or reassurances to give, just as Adam had none to present to himself. "Please," he whispered, knowing there would be no reply, but he glanced up anyways, peering through his fingers at the dark world that had suddenly enveloped his mind.

"Why plead when you know it won't get you anywhere?" Michael asked through the shadows, and Adam pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his face in the pocket created between legs and sternum with a muffled whimper. "No one's going to save you," Michael went on, "Not even your brother."

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

Yeah, this took so long because A.) I had to fangirl over the new HP movie. And see it many times. B.) a certain episode of a certain tween TV show outright said shippers were stupid and had no lives, which made me emo for awhile. C.) Supernatural 6x10. Enough said.

WTF. I have seriously lost all faith in the show, as of right now. The only reason I haven't abandoned it entirely is because I've been with it from literally the day the very first episode aired way back when, and I'm sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for the Gabester to return. Dur. But otherwise, I really want to kill Sera Gamble. With a chain saw. Cass was soooo OOC and then he kissed that bitch demon? No. Just . . . No. UGH. I legit started crying when they kissed. And then I curled up in a ball and didn't pay attention to the rest of the ep except when Crowley died (NOOO!) and the Destiel scene at the end.

On the note of this chapter, geeze, I fudging LOVE Adam. I was more than a little pissed when Dean didn't even try very hard to save him in 6x11. Boo. Adam is planned to be in this fic of the series, and the third one. If I ever get them all done. Which I hope too. Also, I have kinda a fetish for Piercing Gabe/Sam fics. I have like, three of them I've found and I adore them. Also, I've always thought it was a great trust exercise for them. And being who they are, they would have trust issues. Anywho, must go write the Gaberiel Big Bang fic now. I haven't even started. GAH.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Crossing The Inferno: I Still Believe**_

*You're lucky I love you guys. Really long explanatory end note at the end.*

Sam drifted out of a dreamless sleep to see the dim lights of Hell reflecting off the sands of the seventh circle. To this day, nearly a year into his time in Hell, he had no idea where the light came from. He suspected, vaguely, that there was some sort of eternal fire burning somewhere in the underworld, casting the eerie glow that was cast all across it. But he didn't dare ask Gabriel. Truthfully, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

The Hunter shifted and pressed his face into the stretch of fur to his right, huffing out a breath. Bela barely gave him a glance. Her ears were perked towards the distant screeches of the harpies and her eyes wandering across the desert landscape as she kept watch. "You're a good girl," Sam murmured into her side, smiling when she chuffed out a soft bark. He was grateful she was with him, he really was. The number of times she had warned them of approaching danger, or flat out attacked a demon, were starting to get so high Sam had lost count a few weeks ago. Her loyalty was as true as the form it had taken in her.

Rolling over to his left Sam rested his cheek on the warm sand, feeling himself relax as he took in the sight of Gabriel sprawled out on his stomach with his wings folded against his shoulders and looking for all the world as though he was sound asleep. Except that angels didn't sleep, as he'd reminded Sam a few dozen times. It was a half-sleep, a state of rest without dreams while still remaining conscious. The Hunter wiggled closer to the Trickster, propping himself up on his elbows and taking Gabriel's hand between his, placing a kiss against the palm.

"You are such a girl," the archangel mumbled as he cracked open an eye to look up at him.

"Mmmhhhmm," Sam hummed, repeating the motion.

Gabriel yawned and sat up so he could snatch his hand away. His eyes strayed to the windswept circle of Hell around them and he frowned, rolling his shoulders, "So begins another day of trekking across the sands and cutting down harpies." He stretched his arms over his head, flexing his wings and kicking up some sand in the act, to which Bela growled at him as it hit her.

Sam stood and waited as Gabriel got to his feet as well before putting his hands together over his head, drawing them apart. His sword appeared between them, as if summoned from his palms, and he grasped the handle, swinging it once, twice, high over his head. He tossed it to Sam, who caught it with ease and balanced it's weight in a single hand.

It was a morning routine now for them, going over the steps Gabriel had taught the Hunter for an hour a day. Sam hadn't had to actually use the blade since somewhere mid eight circle, and Gabriel prayed he never would have to again. Logically, however, he knew that was impossible. This was Hell, and shit wasn't just gonna sit around when they passed. Demons and monsters came at them daily, hourly. It was eat or be eaten down there.

A step to the right, a step forward with his left foot first, lean back, exhale, lean forward, inhale, their movements in sync with every breath and heartbeat. Side by side. Arms up overhead, bring them back down to the right, back up overhead, down to the left, swing forward. Unlike the first few times they had practiced together, Gabriel allowed Sam to hold his sword when he worked now, getting used to it's weight and feel as he moved, testing it's balance and keeping his own.

After practice they set out across the circle again, Gabriel returning his blade to it's place between dimensions. And they walked. Gabriel to Sam's right, the edges of his wings brushing against the Hunter's shoulders, and Bela on his left, walking close enough that he felt her warmth against his thigh every few steps. It was how days were spent, how they would be spent for what Sam feared would be too many years to count, but at the moment he didn't mind. After a half hour Gabriel lapsed into one of his many stories of people he had delivered justice upon throughout his infinitely long life. Sam had gotten used to such tales long ago, enjoyed them even. And when they were told from Gabriel's point of view rather than that of the Hunter that was after him, they really were what he insisted they were. Just.

The archangel recounted the stories of murders unpunished and rapists never caught, voice low as he mapped out how he'd taken their lives. He laughed as he told of the delinquents and bullies he'd played lesser pranks on, just enough that they'd look at life differently once he let them go. Sam smiled at tales of whispered prayers for vengeance and proper justice Gabriel had continued to receive long after he'd left Heaven's ranks, prayers fulfilled.

"I prayed," Sam said one day as they walked.

"I know," Gabriel had replied, resting a hand on his arm.

When they had walked so far they Sam couldn't feel his legs anymore they would stop, Gabriel whipping into an existence a meal for them and Bela continuing on a bit farther ahead, making a wide circle around their camp for the night and making sure there was nothing laying in wait for them. Sam would flop down on his back across the sand and tug Gabriel down to him, threading his fingers through black feathers and auburn brown hair, kissing along the side of the archangel's neck and the corners of his mouth, teasing.

And Gabriel kept track of the days, the hours that Sam would sleep away as the year wore down to it's end, holding his breath each night in fear that the next morning would be the day the Hunter wouldn't wake up. So that night, When Sam pulled him down to him he knew he couldn't risk another bout of possibly endless sleep.

"Sammy," he whispered, pulling back before Sam could kiss him. He pushed the human back onto the sand, one hand trailing down his chest to his navel, fingering the thin ring he'd placed there a few months before, "You trust me, right kiddo?"

Sam narrowed his eyes in confusion as he nodded, "Of course."

Gabriel paused, "No, Sammy, I mean do you really trust me. Because I swear to my Father that everything I've done, will do, down in this place is for you. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

The archangel folded his arms across Sam's chest, breathing out a sigh of relief, "I love you," he whispered, almost too soft to hear."

"I know."

Gabriel was insanely careful as he mapped out Sam's body, tracing old scars with the tips of his fingers and cautiously kissing the newer ones, anger brimming in him at the sight of them. They were marks of when he hadn't been fast enough to get to Sam, burns of the fires of Hell and gashes from demons and harpies alike. Sam sighed as Gabriel rolled him over onto his back, breathing against the nape of his neck and trialing a kiss from there down to his shoulder blades. He paused then, placing a hand against a large deep scar a little father down, right across Sam's spine, "What's this one?"

Sam shivered at his touch, "Ummm . . . I think that's the one from Cold Oak."

The archangel stiffened, remembering all too well the night he'd felt Sam's presence on Earth vanish for the first time, the way his own Grace had stuttered with anguish during the hours Sam had lain dead. "I'm sorry," he murmured against the Hunter's skin, kissing the thick white scar.

"It's not your fault," Sam chuckled. "It's no one's fault."

"I still could have interfered," Gabriel growled, "And I didn't because of my stupid pride, and fear of my brothers."

"You are the last person I'd ever blame," Sam reassured. He rolled over on to his back again, raising his hands and grabbing the bottom of Gabriel's shirt, tugging at it until the angel snapped and it vanished, "My turn."

Gabriel laughed as Sam pushed him over, "You're not going to find many scars on me, Sam. Angel healing powers and all."

But Sam did find something, a large puckered pink-white scar across the archangel's stomach just below his ribs. His breath caught in his throat, "This . . ." Gabriel tensed as he flitted his fingers along the edges of it, his eyes watching the Hunter's movements. "This is how you died, isn't it."

"Yeah," Gabriel said lowly. He'd forgotten for a heartbeat that Sam hadn't been there when it had happened, "Stabbed right through by own brother. What a way to go." He shrugged, "Things happen..

Sam found a few more scars, old wounds from wars in Heaven and a burn from some funeral pyre on the back of his hand the archangel refused to talk about. More burns on his lower back that he claimed were from the ashes of Pompeii, and some nicks on his wrists he said were made by magic during the battle when King Arthur died. He spent a fair amount of time straightening out all of Gabriel's miffed feathers, listening to the little hitches in breath and whines Gabriel made as he did so.

He huffed out a laugh as Gabriel suddenly pinned him again, straddling the Hunter's hips and placing the pads of his fingers across the handprint on Sam's chest, matching his hand to the mark. Sam watched him with glazed eyes, watched Gabriel's fingers cover the mark so perfectly he couldn't even see it anymore, "I belong to you, don't I," he said suddenly, the idea coming to him at the sight. It was a mark like Castiel had made on Dean, and Sam had never had any doubt of the odd bond between them.

Gabriel smiled, "Not quite, Sammy. Not yet." He leaned down and placed a kiss over the mark as he drew his hand away.

Sam tilted his head to the side, "What are you going to do?"

Gabriel let out a small huff of laughter against the Hunter's collarbone, "Don't play innocent with me, Sammy. This is no time to play cute."

"You think I'm cute?" Sam asked absently. He was busy curling his fingers into Gabriel's dark feathers again, fascinated as the archangel squirmed a bit with each touch. "That's not degrading at all."

A short laugh escaped the Trickster, "What do you want me to say, Sammy? That you're just so adorable in a very manly way?"

Sam made a face, "Urgh. No."

"But you are," Gabriel smirked. He paused to hook his fingers underneath the top of Sam's pants, curving each digit under the fabric carefully. Sam barely noticed. "You've got a cute little smile and it's cute when you flip your hair out of your eyes and-"

"The next example had better be cute ass you want to grope," Sam warned. He slid his hands down to cover Gabriel's where the archangel was slowly removing the Hunter's pants inch by inch. "Come on."

Gabriel swallowed. The last time he'd gone too far Sam had flipped. "Are you sure, Sammy?"

"Very," Sam promised.

It was a slow dance of sorts at first, Gabriel's moves hesitant and carefully, as if he expected Sam to break at the simplest touch. Sam watched each movement with careful consideration as he threaded his fingers deep into Gabriel's feathers, smirking when the archangel arched his back and cried out. That alone urged the Trickster on as he sucked a mark onto the skin on the inside of Sam's thigh. He caught Sam's roaming hands between one of his own as he worked a finger inside the Hunter, his golden gaze piercing as he watched Sam squirm. "You sure?" he asked again as he stretched the younger Winchester open beneath him, withdrawing his fingers and positioning himself.

Sam nodded, and Gabriel didn't miss the last flash of uncertainty in his eyes before he whispered, "Yeah, I'm sure," before Gabriel pushed into him.

The archangel pinned Sam's wrists above his head and held him still as he entered him, releasing him only when he was fully sheathed inside the other. Sam whimpered and tangled his arms around Gabriel's neck to draw him close as the angel rocked into him. Coherent thoughts became inadequate. Sam's back arched as Gabriel collided with something inside of him and he buried his fingers in the base of the other's dark feathers, clenching them against Gabriel's shoulder blades. Gabriel gasped against his collarbone, hips stuttering each time Sam's fingers dug into the place where skin and feather met. He took Sam's face between his hands and kissed along the corners of Sam's eyes when they squeezed shut. After a moment he moved one hand to the scar across Sam's sternum, slotting his fingers over his mark one by one until they aligned perfectly.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

_Sam knelt down and picked up a stone, turning it over in his hands before casting it aside. The ground was covered in them, small rocks not much bigger than the palm of his hand scattered across the shore of a lake. He glanced up at the water and caught sight of the small pier on the opposite side, just barely visible in the light of the sun setting behind it. Odd. He could have sworn the sun had been sinking on the horizon he stood on now the last time he'd been here. _

_He shrugged and went back to picking up the stones, one by one. Lining them up with the lifelines on his palm he tested their weight and feel, each time dropping one in favor for the next one to catch his eye._

_"What'cha looking for, Sammy?" a voice asked._

_Sam smiled and let his chin rest against his knees for a heartbeat before he went back to his task. He fingered another rock, the pad of his thumb circling a water smoothed spot at it's center. "Just trying to find the perfect skipping stone," he replied simply._

_A huff of laughter rang out over the water and Sam chanced a look up, grinning from ear to ear when Dean caught his gaze. "This is what you do with your free time?" his brother asked, amused._

_"What else is there to do?" Sam countered. He twisted himself so that he could look out over the lake, "What are you doing here, Dean?"_

_Sitting beside him Dean cast him a confused glance, "What do you mean? A man has a right to dream, you know."_

_"Again?" Sam chuckled, "This is the second time we've been on the edge of this lake in your dreams." He gestured absently to the pier on the other side of the water, "Why is it always here?"_

_Dean snorted, "Maybe you should pick the spot next time then, if you're going to complain."_

_"M'not complaining," Sam said. He reached to his side and lifted another rock into his line of sight, the fading sunlight glinting off of it's oddly smooth surface. Almost instantly he tossed it aside._

_"Hey," Dean reprimanded as it went sailing past his head, "That one wasn't half bad. Why do you have to be so picky?"_

_Sam blinked at him, "Because it wasn't just right. It wasn't the one I was looking for," he said simply before going back to his self appointed task. _

_Dean heaved out a sigh, "All right, I'm game. First to find the perfect skipping stone wins . . ." He drew off as he considered what to bet._

_"A million dollars," Sam suggested, laughing when Dean gave him an exasperated but not entirely annoyed look. _

_They worked in silence for awhile, Dean moving to the edge of the water and picking up only the ones the small waves lapped against, smooth and wet from a lifetime of water wear. Sam stayed farther back, close to the trees he knew were there but couldn't quite bring himself to look at. After a few minutes his hand closed around a rather lumpy stone. It was not smooth in any one place, with little curves and dips in it's surface like untamed hills and sharper mountains. There were a few scratches here and there, white against it's initially obsidian color. Sam stared at it for awhile before putting it back down. He let his fingers skim over a few other rocks, but he found his eyes drawn to the oddly shaped one. Picking it up once more he dropped it almost immediately as it sliced open a small cut across his finger. He frowned at it and turned away to shift around the other stones at his feet. _

_For a third time his eyes fell upon the dark stone. This time when he handled it he was careful not to cut himself . He put it back down, hesitating, before he picked it back up again instantly. "I found one!" He called to Dean after a moment more of thought._

_Dean was standing on the edge of the water, a small white stone balanced against his palm, smooth and thin, perfect in every way a skipping stone should be. He grimaced when Sam approached with his, "Eurgh, what is that? That's not gonna do anything but sink like a, well, rock, Sam."_

_Sam just shrugged, "We'll see." He smirked when Dean's hand closed determinedly over his stone. "Ready?"_

_"Any time you are," Dean grinned._

_They hurled their stones outward simultaneously. Sam whooped when his accomplished one big leap away from the shore while Dean's made a series of smaller ones before doing something similar. Despite it's odd shape, Sam's stone easily skimmed the surface of the water with Dean's right at it's side until both vanished from view, too far away for Sam to make out whether they had finally sunk, or had just skipped on forever until they reached the opposite shore._

_Dean raised a hand to shadow his eyes as he peered across the lake. "Too bad," he sighed, "I was hoping to get a million dollars."_

_"And where do you think I'd get that?" Sam asked with a laugh. "Money doesn't grow on trees, Dean."_

_"Paper is made of trees and money is made of paper," Dean shot back. "Try and argue that." Sam just shook his head and decided it was better not to try. Dean smiled, reaching out a hand to grasp Sam's shoulder. "You okay, Sammy?"_

_Sam nodded, "Yeah. I think I will be."_

_"Good," Dean sighed. "That doesn't mean I'll stop worrying, though, you know."_

_"I know." Sam lifted a hand and placed it over his brother's, squeezing tightly. "But I swear, I'm going to be okay."_

_"I'll believe it when I see it," Dean frowned. "Just . . ." He kicked at the rocks at their feet absently, "Make sure you pick the right skipping stones, Sammy."_

_"Ooohhh, cryptic," Sam teased._

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

When Sam drifted awake he felt more refreshed than he ever had in the past year. Rolling over onto his side he caught sight of Gabriel sitting on the sand not more than an arm length away. The archangel looked up when Sam reached and twisted his fingers into the edge of his shirt.

"You doing all right there, Sammy?"

Sam smiled, "Yeah. I'm good."

Gabriel nodded before jerking his head out towards the looming expanse of Hell ahead of them, "This is your last chance to back out you know."

A laugh escaped the Hunter and he sat up, stretching his arms above his head with a satisfied groan. "Nah, I think you're stuck with me," he said with a glance at the Trickster.

For a moment Gabriel looked almost startled before his gaze softened into a smile that made Sam shiver in delight. "That's good, then," he said quietly, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Gross."

Sam looked over his shoulder to see Bela peering at them from where she lay a few feet away, her paws over his nose as if to shield herself from the blatant flirting. Gabriel choked on a surprised laugh, and Sam threw his head back as he let out a hiccupping laugh of his own.

There wasn't a doubt in his mind that they would be all right.

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

Okay. *le sits and prepares to explain herself* Basically after the halfway point of season 6 I couldn't really bring myself to write, or read anything Supernatural. I'm getting over it, as you can see. But basically I was REALLY hesitant to come back to this fic. Why, you ask? Because it was meant to be part one of a trilogy, the second part of which was eerily similar to the second half of this season.

I planned out the second part of this fic trilogy LAST summer, in 2010, details of which I can say are, weirdly, creepily, similar to the ending arch of season six, including the players involved and what they were involved in. And isn't it totally lovely that the reason I wanted to write such events was because even though they would be brilliant, I NEVER wanted to see them happen in the show? HA. HA HA HA HA. THE IRONY.

*goes off to pout in a corner* I'm plotting murder attempts on Sera Gamble, just an FYI.

ANYWHOSERS, this is still planned to be a trilogy, though now I'm not so sure what to do with part two because I am scared of my own prophetic notes of it alone. Seriously, what the fuck self, way to corrupt characters in your fic notes a whole year before they corrupt on screen. *headdesk*

There's about three chapters left in this part of the trilogy before I move on to We Defy Gravity, the second part which I'm not sure I want to touch with a ten foot pole now. UNLESS my magical prediction powers are super accurate, then I might JUST so season 7 ends in a Homosexually Ever After. AS IT SHOULD.

*goes off to mope some more* In case you can't tell, I'm very pissed at the show right now. I haven't been this angry/pissed/upset with a fandom since Harry Potter Book 6.

ONE MORE THING. If you understood the oddly symbolic dream sequence even a LITTLE BIT, edible poobas for you. I don't know why I felt I had to add all that symbolism in there, effing English major-ness got the better of me. ALSO, after Crossfire is finished sometime next week I'll be starting up And Then There Were Three, a very epic Supernatural fic I've been making notes to start for almost a year now. It'll be epic, I promise, with much Sabriel and (ugh, that other pairing I can't even TYPE the name of because my heart will shatter and I shall BURST INTO TEARS. So yeah. Sabriel and that pair that won the Spoiler TV poll like a BAMF.)


	15. Chapter 15

**Crossing The Inferno: For A Thousand More**

Over time, Sam lost track of the days, the months, the years. There was no sun to mark the passage of days, no stars to chart out the years slipping away by. When he asked how long he'd slept every time he dozed off Gabriel merely smiled in reply. Sam wished, more than anything, that the archangel's unwavering smile wouldn't seem so strained.

He thought about counting things to figure out how far they'd come, but at the end of every day he lost track of those numbers too. How many footsteps they left in the sand behind them, how many times Gabriel cracked a bad joke that still made Sam laugh anyways, how many seconds they held their breath as a demon stalked past their hiding place.

"Look at your hair, kiddo," Gabriel said as they crossed into the sixth circle. He threaded his fingers through Sam's hair and back, the smallest of frowns on his face. "You're about to cross into hippie territory."

Sam tilted his head back and laughed. "It's not quite that long yet, Gabe. Don't be ridiculous."

"I have scrunchies in blue, pink, and yellow whenever you come to your senses."

OoOoOoOoO

"_You look like a Disney princess in training," Dean laughed, hands on his knees to keep himself upright as he fought to breath properly._

_Sam punched him in the arm. "I hope that hurts when you wake up."_

OoOoOoOoO

They're sitting on the bank of the River Styx the first time Sam lets Gabriel braid his hair.

"I could cut it, you know, it would probably look better." Gabriel tentatively held up two fingers and made a scissoring motion towards the back of Sam's neck and Sam chuckled.

"Thanks, but I'll keep it as is. It helps me keep track of time."

Something in Gabriel's eyes darkened at these words and before Sam could say anything more the archangel had wrapped his arms around him, forehead resting in the space between Sam's shoulder blades. "Ask me," He whispered and Sam shuddered at how broken the words sounded. "Ask me how long it's been."

He almost didn't dare to.

"How long?"

Silence settled in the air when he finally voiced the question that had been nagging him since he fell into the pit and Bela looked up from where she'd been seemingly asleep a few feet away. Gabriel shifted his hold on the hunter so that he could meet her gaze over Sam's shoulder, holding it before he drew in a breath to reply.

"Seventeen years."

At first, Sam didn't believe him. He tried to count up the days in his head, or at least how many he'd estimated had passed, and fell far short. It couldn't have been seventeen. _Seventeen_.

"What?"

Gabriel tightened his hold on him, "Every three days on earth is one year here, Sam. How many times have you dreamed of your brother?"

Sam tried to count, tried to add it up. "At least . . . Thirty?"

"You don't dream of him every time you sleep, correct?"

"No."

"You dream of him every time he sleeps. Or at least every time he's not haunted by his own nightmares."

The archangel pulled away and Sam slumped a bit without the support. He sat there for a few minutes, too shocked to do much else, and he lifted a hand when Bela padded over and lay her head down on his thigh, his fingers tangling in her fur. Seventeen years.

"Dean was down here for something like sixty, wasn't he?" From where he was standing a few feet away, wings folded against his back and his posture stiff, Gabriel nodded. Sam forced a smile and continued, "Well then, seventeen isn't so bad."

Gabriel stopped trying to keep Sam in the dark after that.

OoOoOoOoOoO

"_I miss you," Dean whispered when he thought Sam couldn't hear him, the younger Winchester's back to him as they skipped rocks out across the unbroken surface of the lake._

_Sam smiled and turned to him, wanting to say something, anything in return about how Dean had only had weeks to miss him whereas Sam had had years. But Dean was already gone._

OoOoOoOoOoO

"Why do they call it the 'River' Styx?" Sam asked. He was sitting on the set of stairs leading from the upper deck to the lower of the ship, his gaze on the never ending horizon of water. It's been twenty six years since he fell into the pit and nine since he'd seen land.

Bela has her paws up on the railing on the port side and she dropped down to all fours again as she bound across the swaying deck to his side. "It's called a river because it flows," she explained. "An ocean has tides, but it does not have a current, like a river. The current is what keeps the souls here from escaping." She tilted her head towards the side of the ship and Sam closed his eyes to keep from following her gaze. He already knew what lay in the water, the hundreds of thousands of people who flailed and clawed at the side of the ship every day before turning on each other once more.

OoOoOoOoO

"_I don't know how long I can take it," he told Dean as they sat on the pier looking out over the sun washed lake._

"_You're only halfway there," Dean reminded and Sam covered his eyes with his palms as reality slipped back into focus. _

OoOoOoOoO

"Don't look at them, Sam," Gabriel said as he tugged Sam away from the cabin's window. The river swelled and dipped beneath them, carrying their little ship onwards through the fifth circle. Sam didn't shift his eyes away from the red stained water and the bodies roiling within it until the archangel forcibly pulled him back.

Sam gritted his teeth, "Why can't I look at them?" Gabriel started, mouth dropping open to voice an answer that never came. "Why can't I?" Sam went on, "They're just like me, aren't they? They're human, or they used to be. And if I died, here and now, I'd end up down here too." He grabbed Gabriel by the arms, fingers digging into skin. "Tell me the truth!"

Gabriel's eyes flickered to the river just outside the windows, "No, Sam. You wouldn't."

The hunter snarled and shoved the archangel back, tripping him onto the single bed in the cabin. "You're so full of shit, Gabriel! How many lies is this? A hundred? A thousand?" Gabriel didn't resist when Sam pinned his wings down, pressed him belly down against the mattress, green eyes blazing with fury. "I can't take it anymore!"

"I know," was all Gabriel said before bit down warningly against his spine.

The archangel didn't cry out when Sam took him, forced his way inside and held him down. He twisted his fingers into the sheets and said nothing.

He stayed silent when Sam bent him over the small desk, pressed him against the wall, the door, the cold wood of the floor. It wasn't until Sam dumped him onto the bed again, the archangel falling onto his back before the hunter was on him again that any words passed between them at all.

"Oh . . . God," Sam whispered. And that was all Gabriel needed to hear.

He smiled, a wavering, broken little thing that barely made it's way past his cut lip and didn't quiet reach his eyes. "Shhh, Sammy. It's okay." Sam closed his eyes as Gabriel framed his face with his hands, fingers threading through the hunter's hair. "It's okay. I've got you. It's okay."

Sam choked, throat closing around an apology that wouldn't come. Gabriel brushed away his tears and kissed him, swallowing down the sob that threatened to escape him. "It's not okay," Sam said finally and Gabriel didn't have anything to say in return.

Their ship continued across the Circle of Anger.

OoOoOoOoOoO

"_I fucked up," Sam said with the heels of his palms digging into his eyes. He can't even look at Dean to say it, can't bear to see the disappointment in his brother's eyes. "I was just so angry and I . . . I don't know what happened."_

_All Dean says is, "Everyone fucks up," and Sam can't bring himself to admit that he's right._

OoOoOoOoOoO

"I hurt you."

They were on year thirty four when Sam said it and they'd spent two entire years dancing around each other on the deck of the ship. Gabriel's body didn't scar unless marked by an angel blade or death, but it took far too long for the bruises of Sam's hands to fade from his skin.

Gabriel looks up from where he'd been leaning against the mast, one eyebrow raised, "Yeah. I already told you it was fine, Sam." His words were calm, but forcibly so, and Sam didn't miss the dismissive tone to them.

"It's not fine," Sam snapped, and there they were again, breathing down each other's necks and seconds away from another fight. Gabriel didn't budge from where he stood with his back against the mast, defiance in his honey gold eyes, and Sam sucked in a shaking breath before turning away, arms crossed over his chest.

OoOoOoOoOoO

"_Did you and Cas . . . Did you guys ever fight?"_

_Dean raised an eyebrow before he went back to kicking rocks into the water, the question hanging ignored between them._

"_Dean."_

"_Yes, we fought. It was . . . When I left and tried to go to Michael, that one wasn't the first time but it definitely was the worst one." He shrugged as if it was nothing but Sam didn't miss the stiffness in the motion._

"_What did you do? How did you . . . Fix things?"_

"_I didn't." _

_The small, barely audible crack in Dean's voice saod more than those two words alone ever could._

OoOoOoOoOoO

Gabriel's hands were firm when he pushed Sam backwards onto the bed and Sam let himself fall with a faint huff of surprise.

"You're human," Gabriel said as he tugged his clothes off piece by piece. "You're mortal. You're easily influenced by events and emotions around you." He shakes a hand towards the window and Sam doesn't follow the movement, already knows what lays beyond it, the river and the souls within it, eternally locked in anger. "You're human," Gabriel repeated and Sam watched apprehensively as the archangel kneeled on the edge of the bed, "And I don't blame you for what happened."

Sam swallowed, "What if I blame myself?"

"Then I don't care." The Trickster leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of Sam's mouth, smiling as Sam's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "Now lay back, shut up, and enjoy my ride."

"Your ri-what?" Sam sputtered and Gabriel smirked.

They made up the same way they'd fought, with bodies rather than words. Sam's fingers glided over Gabriel's hips as the archangel rocked against him, around him, over him, the hunter's breath coming out in short, uneven gasps. Gabriel's hands rested across Sam's chest, over the print seared into skin, and he growled out a protest when Sam tried to roll them.

"Oh, no, big boy, I'm in charge here." He muttered, nails digging into skin when Sam rolled his hips upward on instinct. Gabriel swore and reached back to grip Sam's knees to steady himself, chest heaving. "For the love of, hold still. I said I was in charge."

Sam cracked open an eye and chuckled, "You always say that." He rolled his hips again, once, twice, his hands on Gabriel's hips keeping the archangel in place. Gabriel groaned, his chin falling to rest against his collarbone as his whole body shuddered.

OoOoOoOoO

"_When I get back . . ." Sam stopped as Dean closed his eyes, a forced and twisted smile on his face. He never finished the sentence, too caught between the realization that Dean didn't believe he would return and the shock that he suddenly felt like he never would either._

OoOoOoOoO

They spend an entire year on the shore between the fifth and fourth circles. Sam built sandcastles that could rival Michelangelo's statues in their intricacy and Gabriel just lay back and enjoyed the steady, secure feeling of land under his body with Bela at his side.

"When are you going to tell him?" Bela asked one day, her head tilted to the side and wind rolling off the river ruffling her fur.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, "Tell him what?" She bared her teeth and Gabriel simply met her gaze head on, unafraid of her threats. "There is nothing left to tell."

Bela snarled, "He thinks you'll be leaving this place together, angel. Not correcting him is as good as lying." 

"You don't know that we won't," Gabriel hissed. "For all any of us know we could all walk out of here very much alive."

Bela snapped her jaws and snorted, a sound that would have been a laugh if she'd still been human enough. "And how alive will the angel, who's slowly giving what little life he has left to a mortal, be at the end of a hundred years?"

He doesn't answer.

OoOoOoOoOoO

"_We'll be tied for years soon."_

"_That's not an achievement you should be striving for, Sammy."_

"_I know."_

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

I would say I'm sorry for the inexcusable delay, but I'm really not. It's hard to write when the actual show you're writing for is tearing your hopes and dreams up into itty bitty pieces before your eyes.

This chapter is broken up into short little sections for a REASON. We're going over a time in Hell when Sam's finally aware of how long he's been down there, and it's starting to affect him.

Two more chapters left, I think. I'm trying to wrap this one up before I sign up for the Suerpwholock big bang, so expect more a lot quicker. Yep.


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